


Loki Syndrome 3: The Fall of the Realms

by itspixiesthings



Series: Loki Syndrome [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BAMF Loki, BDSM, D/s, Dom Loki, Dom!Loki, Domination, Epic, Erotica, Exhibitionism, F/M, Fantasy, Femsub, Genderbend, Hand Feeding, Humiliation, Loki Does What He Wants, Magic, Maledom, Maledom/Femsub, Masochism, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Nipple Clamps, Political Intrigue, Romance, Royalty, Sadism, Smut, Submission, Subspace, Superheros, Teacher/Student, War, magic study, magic systems
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 13:15:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 54,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5292215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itspixiesthings/pseuds/itspixiesthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More than half of the Nine Realms are now in Loki's possession, but his designs go farther than that, all the way to Asgard itself. As he sets in motion his plans, it becomes apparent that there is more at stake than simply his pride: A villain stronger than the Nine Realms have ever known is coming to contest with him for the destruction of existence itself, and if Loki cannot uphold his claim of ownership, it will be taken from him.</p><p>Anne meanwhile will learn exactly what it means to be in the service of the King of the Realms himself, and if she wants to aid him in the capture, and the saving, of the world, it will take everything in her to help tip the scales. The end is nigh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> SO THIS IS HAPPENING. I'm super nervous about this one, because it will focus more on action, political intrigue and fantasy epic-ness than the last ones (although don't worry, there will be a healthy helping of smut as well!) Hopefully I'll be able to tie up all of those loose ends I left dangling at the end of the last one! 
> 
> I'm not sure how often I'll be updating this, as I am also currently working on an original novel as well. But I'll try to keep a consistent update schedule!

The dungeons of Asgard were not the most pleasant of places. Not even for the likes of one whom the realm called Prince. As befitting his title and rank within Asgard, he was sparred from most of the brutalities that the dungeons could offer its lesser guests, but even so it was hardly a place one could recall with fondness. The cells were no more hospitable for the lack of chains or the absence of a guards biting lash.

For the most part, the dungeons were _cold_. It was a biting sort of cold that went right down to his bones, permeating his very marrow. And deprived of his magic by the arts of his jailers, the sorcerer could not even summon up the smallest hint of a flame to warm his shivering body. But this, despite its inconvenience and general unpleasantness, was of no real concern to the god. He was nothing if not patient. He could wait. He had many allies.

His capture had always been part of the plan. One calculated step in the grander scope of his designs.  
"When I am taken to Asgard, use the power I will give you to seal off _all_ conventional means of travel between realms, so that even Heimdall will not be able to move or see between them. Then you will bid Amora to open such portals as only she possesses the knowledge, but be certain she waits a suitable amount of time. My jailers must suppose sufficient time has passed for me to have attempted to escape. After I am gone from Asgard it is imperative that _nothing_ will be able to come or go from that realm."

Hela had nodded through the magic globe, ever the dutiful daughter. She had always known that one day her Father would call on her to exact his plans, for the Fates had from centuries past been clear of his role in the coming conflict, and by extension, her own. The plan had been executed to perfection, not a single piece out of place. When the guards had realized that their ward had disappeared into the ether, it was too late to find him. Asgard rallied to find a way to locate the missing trickster, but they were sealed off from the other realms, both Princes locked out, and the god of mischief laughing all the way through the passage that had been opened to him, back to Midgard, where he had purposefully stranded his dear brother.  
  
And now, only a relatively short while later, in terms of the eternal, the Realms were falling into place. One by one, they would _all_ fall to him. Helheim, Realm of the Dead. Jotunheim, Elemental Realm of Ice, and home to the Ice Giants. Midgard, Realm of the Mortals. Alfheim, Realm of the Light Elves. Muspelheim, Elemental Realm of Fire, home of the Fire Demons. And most recently, Svartleheim, Realm of the Dark Elves.

He had been working diligently since he had escaped his prison in Asgard, and his reach was far longer than any had dared to imagine. As he ended the enchantment that connected him to his daughter and chiefest of agents, he allowed a sly smirk to cross his lips. Everything was beginning to point towards a conclusion. The air around him felt thick with the anticipation of things to come. The end of all of this was so close he could almost taste his final victory, yet he knew well that there was still much yet to do. Schemes to put into motion, plays to be set out and pieces to move across the board.

The mortals had a word for the coming end of the current natural order: _Ragnarok_. They believed it would destroy the world, and that he himself would be the bringer of the destruction that was to come. But they were fools. The end was neigh, but he was not the bringer, only the messenger. Like the fabled horned beast of legend, heralding the beginning of the end, a harbinger of the portents of doom. So it had been prophesied and so his Fate was tied up in the coming events.

The one who was to come had a name of his own, and Loki knew it all too well. He shuddered perceptibly as it sprang, unbidden, to mind, and his stomach twisted in his gut. As he strode through the halls of his relatively meager castle, his smile had turned to a deepening frown. It would take every scheming bone in his body, and all of the arcane power he possessed to pull the proper strings and achieve the desired result. Ragnarok was not, as the mortals believed, the end of the world. It was the beginning of a new one, one that he intended to mold and shape _himself_. The alternative was too horrible to imagine.

The hallways echoed around him as he strode at a clipped pace, surveying the elven architecture that currently served as a center for his operations. The way to Midgard was kept open at all times, but it would be easier to gain access to the other realms from Alfheim. He could feel the flow of the arcane in the air, in the walls and in the ground beneath him. It was a realm rich in magic, unlike the comparatively deadened world that the mortals inhabited. It was no wonder so few of them ever reached their full potential for power, living as they did in a world seemingly designed to stunt magical growth.

In comparison, Alfheim was saturated with the flow of magic, but even this was not enough. He longed for _Asgard_ , a realm that lived and breathed the arcane, that embodied it down to the very core of its being. Elven magic was one thing, but Aesir magic could not be duplicated. He closed his eyes and put out a hand, gently brushing his fingertips across the stone wall, feeling the texture and the coolness. In time, he told himself. He could be patient. He had waited millenia already... what was a few more months?

"My King."

The voice disturbed his reverie and he turned slowly, his eyes opening lazily to regard the servant who stood bowed before him. The young elf wore a dark cloak, covering most of his features, but his fair hair fell in loose strands about his shoulders. His head was lowered respectfully before his King, and Loki nodded with an air of casual authority, waving a hand in acknowledgement.

"You may speak." He surveyed the youth, who couldn't possibly be more than two hundred years of age. Old enough to know his job, young enough to be swayed to his cause.  
"The Lady Amora has the portals opened now to Vanaheim and Nidavellir. Shall I dispatch the spies into these realms, my King?" The young elf's eyes were bright and eager to please. He liked that. He smiled and inclined his head in acquiescence.

"Do so. I want to know _everything_ that can be gleaned from the workings of these realms. The spies sent into Nidavellir are to sow discord as much as possible, sabotage the realms inner circles and weaken it's unity. They must not be _seen_ by the dwarves, instead operating from the _shadows_. The ones sent to Vanaheim however are to approach the Queen as an embassy. See to it that this message is delivered." As though from thin air he produced a folded letter, sealed with gold wax and the imprint of a horned helmet.  
"They are to return with the Queen's reply, as well as any amount of information that they can glean about the Court." He watched the young man as he took the missive, placing it delicately in a pocket to the side of his cloak. Then the elf bowed his head once again.  
"Yes my King." He waited, his hands folded in front of him, before Loki nodded curtly. "That will be all. You are dismissed."

As the elf took his leave, he continued down the hall until he stopped at the door to his own personal chambers. There he lingered, his hand upon the frame. His thoughts were in tumult, considering all of the various pieces he would need to keep in place, and behind that door lay a certain mortal girl, who he had never intended to fall in love with, but who had managed to worm her way into his affections. Perhaps that was part of the strange web of Fate as well. She was not _quite_ mortal, not anymore, and he intended to keep her that way. His love was a force to be reckoned with; he did not do it lightly, and did not do it in any small amount. If he was to love, he would possess, and nothing in all of the Nine Realms, not even the one who was to bring about the End, would tear away from him that which he possessed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> Please also come and [say hi on Tumblr!](http://firstorder-pixie.tumblr.com) I'd love to chat ;)


	2. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki discovers that Anne has not exactly been feeling well since the battle with Doctor Doom, but the reason may be a bigger blessing than he could have imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 - Anne, much like myself, is not a morning person :D  
> 2 - I have concluded that I love writing blowjob scenes, they are so fun ^^  
> 3 - PLOT ADVANCEMENT!

She blinked the sleep out of her eyes as she groggily turned over to feel the warmth of another body laying beside her. Arms instinctively reaching out to hug the other figure closer to her, like a giant teddy bear. The fog of sleep was only just beginning to clear from her mind. She loved the lazy and lackadaisical way in which mornings  unfolded. She heard his affectionate chuckle as an arm came around her shoulders to squeeze her tight. Without hesitation, she nuzzled in towards the embrace, pressing her nose tight to his chest.

"Good morning, pet." His words were a blanket of affection. She moved slowly to raise her eyes to look at him through the haze of sleep, a comfortable smile resting upon her lips.   
"Good morning Master." She murmured the words, happy and content to be wrapped up in his arms. His smile widened as he gazed down at her. Just that look of total possession and tenderness was enough to make her flush with pride.

"Oh pet... you have no idea how adorable you are first thing in the morning." His hand stroked the bare skin of her shoulder, making gentle caresses and circles with his fingertips. She couldn't help but make a happy sound in the back of her throat, that came out sounding something akin to a mewl in response to his kindness. Her mind was gradually beginning to sharpen as she woke up, the world coming into focus around her. His fingers began to lace lazily through her hair, the strands being picked up before falling back upon her shoulder again. 

His warm smile looked contemplative for a moment before he nodded with decision, as though he had finally come to a laboriously made verdict. "I would have your lips around my cock, darling."  
She perked up at the casually issued command, wakefulness fully overcoming her bleary eyed sleep addled state. Her cheeks became hot and a shy smile crept across her lips as she nodded quickly, a rush of sudden excitement welling up within her.

"Yes Master." She answered with eagerness, getting up on her elbows to move herself downward under the blankets. The warmth engulfed her as she crawled across his naked body. His taut muscles were hard underneath her as her hands ran across them, appreciating everything that this man, this god, who owned her was.  Further downwards and she caught his firm erection in hand, marveling all over again at its hardness and size as she wrapped her palm around the shaft. Every time was like a new experience, and she felt awed and amazed as she moved to put her lips to it.

It felt firm and hard as she kissed it, let her tongue wrap around it and drag across it. She was vaguely aware of the blankets being pulled away and the coolness of the morning air hitting her back as his hands made lazy caresses through her hair and across her head. Running her lips and tongue down the shaft, worshiping his cock and lavishing it with love as he had taught her. She could hear his breath hitch as he watched her, and it encouraged her to continue. Her tongue moved with care from the base to the tip before she took it inside of her mouth.

She could feel herself getting even more excited, that familiar ache between her legs growing as her thighs became wet, but she knew she did not yet have permission to relive that ache with her own fingers. So she focused on his pleasure, enjoying the taste of him and the feel of him, the slight shudders that her movements caused, the way his hands tightened in her hair and pulled her down on his cock, choking her with it before allowing her back up for breath. Letting her tongue roll around the head before stroking down the shaft, eliciting from him a breath of appreciation. 

"Oh pet... you have gotten so  _very_  good at that..." he breathed with a smile, his eyes never leaving her as he watched her bob up and down, her lips wrapped tightly around him and her cheeks hollowed to grasp at him. Her eyes darted up to look at him, blushing at the sight of him above her, observing and appreciating. Taking in the sight of his beloved pet performing for him. 

And then she felt  _pain_  envelop her.

Suddenly everything stopped for a moment as she jerked backwards, pulling off of his cock with urgency. A splitting wave of pain struck her temples and permeated through her head and down her neck. It was the most intense, and the most sudden, headache she had ever felt, though headaches had indeed been troubling her of late. She screamed when she pulled back, her hands coming up and clutching at her skull, grasping at her hair in sudden agony.

"Pet?" Loki sat up, a note of urgent concern in his voice, that did not dissipate the more he watched her writhe and cry out in apparent pain. "Anne.  _Anne!_  What is wrong!" His eyes narrowed, watching her struggle to pull herself together. Pain coursed through her head and blotted out all thought before she managed to open her eyes. She only opened them a little, a flurry of bright lights making an abstract display that obscured her vision and caused her to feel sick.   
"Head.. head..  _hurts!_ " She managed to gasp the words between whimpers of pain.

He quickly drew her close to him, his arm coming out to grasp her shoulder and pull her in. His other hand rested on her forehead without hesitancy. Then she felt a coldness, a chill emanate from his fingers and his palm as he muttered some foreign words in a language that felt ancient and powerful. She had heard it before, many times, when casting more complex spells. The pain began to soften, to fade, even as she huddled against his chest for comfort. Her cries subsided as the cold began to numb her, pain melting away bit by bit until she was able to quiet and sill, clutching at his chest like a child.

Her breath came in heavy gasps, just letting the ordeal quiet when he spoke again.  
"What happened?" His words were strict, a tone he only employed when what he was saying was important, when he was in no mood to be evaded. She swallowed and poke with reluctance through still trembling lips. "Headaches... they've been happening more recently... but not...  _not as bad_... that was the worst one Master." His eyes narrowed at the confession, rearranging her in his lap so that she was forced to look him in the eye.

"How long?" His eyes were kind and filled with concern, his gruff words only betraying further the worry painted across his face. Her gaze went to the side, nervously contemplating her answer. She knew she could not lie to him.  
"A few months..." The admittance caused him to shift, his brows narrowing further as he considered this information. 

"A few months..." he mulled the time frame over before realization dawned on him. "Since the incident on Midgard." He supplied with a sudden understanding of what was happening. Turning aside for a moment to curse in an alien tongue, he sighed and then looked back to her. "I should have known something like this would happen. Why did you not tell me?" His hand stroked up and down her spine, a worried protector in unsure territory.

"I didn't want to worry you Master... and I didn't think it was cause for concern.. it hasn't been as bad as this before." She got out the words in shame, knowing that she should have told him. It had been happening with more and more frequency, ever since she had been rescued from the clutches of Victor Von Doom. She stared off to the side to avoid meeting his eyes.

 _"Look at me."_  He commanded, and she dragged her gaze with reluctance back towards his. Then she stiffened and her eyes widened, darting to and fro across him for a moment before she hesitantly spoke. "Ma..Master... you... you're glowing..." 

It was true. A bright green light was around his frame, seeming to emanate from his skin and surround his body. His expression was sharp as he looked at her, taking in this revelation. " _Glowing?_ "   
She had never seen him so confused and worried. As his mind worked to piece through the information she nodded her head in confirmation. He looked down at himself and then back at her before tilting his head in interest. " _Describe_  it."

She took a breath before she muddled through how to put what she was seeing into words.  
"It's... a green light. Light you were lit from behind. It's... all around you, around every corner of your body. It's very bright." As she finished speaking she saw him nod understanding, though the confusion in his eyes seemed not to clear, but to deepen.

"An  _aura_. What you are describing is an  _aura_. How long have you been seeing this?"  
She frowned and tried to muddle through memories for a moment. "I.. I think I've seen something similar when I get the headaches but... but not this bright and.. it hasn't stayed after the headaches before. Do... do you see them too, Master?"  
  
"Only if I were to cast a spell specifically to allow me to see them." He hummed and looked her over for a moment, considering her and the new experiences she was relating. She felt awkward and anxious, uncertain what was happening to her. Her heart was pounding and she could feel it quicken in her chest. He raised a hand, palm upwards, and continued to look at her. 

"Tell me pet, what do you see when I do  _this_? _"._ As he spoke a swirl of light rose from his hand, coiling around itself and dazzling her eyes. It looked familiar at the same time that it was new and frightening.   
"A stream of light from your hand.." She replied as she watched in fascination. "It... kind of looks like the streams of data and electrical signals back home but.. but different. Master."

He nodded and moved his hands to play with the stream, passing it back and forth between his fingertips.   
"Magical streams. Energies. I should have know... you were in the chamber with me in that blasted machine." The swirl flowed with freedom between his hands like water, pulsing and curling.   
"But you have the ability to  _effect_  streams of mechanical data, and  _use_  those to effect the  _machines_  they originate from, yes?"

She nodded as she watched the light show before her. It had been some time since she had been surrounded by streams of light. Though it had taken some time to get used to not seeing data in the air at all times, it was a shock to see it again now. He stopped passing the flow between his hands for a moment, instead letting it spread in a twisting spiral around them. "Try and see if you can  _do_ anything to this stream of magic." 

She nodded, the surreal nature of what was transpiring sweeping her away as she reached out a hand to tentatively touch the stream. It wasn't solid, but it moved at her will, just like code. She found it filled with information in the same way machines on Earth were bundled with signals, but she lacked the ability to read these ones. Nevertheless, the stream of magic responded to her touch, and she was able to grasp hold of it and move it with her hands so that it changed direction. Then at a clap of his hands, it disappeared.

"It is your natural ability, amplified. It simply took some time to begin to manifest the changes to your body." He sighed in quiet thought as he watched her. "If I had to guess, your natural ability was always to read energies of all sorts. Growing up on  _Midgard_  however limited the development of this ability to technology since magic is not inherent to that Realm. The rush of power from Doom's machine must have unlocked more of it."

Her eyes were wide as she listened to the explanation of what was happening to her. All she could do was nod as she payed close attention. She tried to wrap her mind around the idea of new found additions to her abilities. She had always been able to see signals from the technology around her as a child, but had never had anyone to teach her about it. Now it had expanded and she didn't know what to do with it.

"Do you see it everywhere? Around objects, plants, in the air... or, does it only emanate around people?" As he continued to grill her she turned her attention back to his questions. "I've... only seen it around people, I think. Not everyone though... only a few... some of the elves maybe... I always just thought it was.. because of the headaches so I didn't really pay attention.." She tried with care to recall what it looked like before, but it had never been so pronounced as it was now. 

He nodded as though her response made sense. "Around people only, but not _all_ people. So just....  _magic users_. Are  _you_  glowing?" She looked down at herself at the inquiry, but shook her head. "No... only you are, Master." He shook his head and clucked his teeth, an expression of amazement written across his face.

"Incredible.." he muttered, watching her carefully. "It's  _completely_  unprecedented. I have never heard of it happening before. You don't have any innate magical ability yourself, you can't even access seidr, and yet you can effect the magical energies of others. Effectively, you could hijack a magic users abilities, and treat them like one of your Midgardian machines...  though, it would depend upon the skill level of the sorcerer in question.  Anyone with even a modicum of arcane knowledge would be able to block you as you are now, but with enough training..."

  
A broad smile broke out across his face, and he lifted a hand to playfully ruffle her hair, her locks becoming a messy catastrophe at his touch, before he abruptly stood from the bed. His glorious and perfect body was casually on display as though nudity were second nature to him. "Well. It seems we have some lessons on the nature of magic and the language of the arcane to delve into, pet. Are you excited?" 

She blinked as her eyes followed his form, contemplating all the information that had just been revealed. New abilities. Learning about magic. It was a scary prospect, but also....  
She knew that Loki still had more Realms to conquer. She knew that those Realms relied heavily on magic to function, and the more she thought about it the more the liked the idea.  _Loki, teaching me about magic, so that I can use my new abilities to help him conquer the rest of the Nine Realms...._

She smiled and nodded, looking up at him with all the eagerness of a puppy. He chuckled and reached out towards the bed frame to unhook the chain that held her ever so willingly captive. As he did so, a shimmer of green light went out from his hand and flowed through the chain. When it reached the collar at her neck the chain had vanished, leaving behind a fading green light that was soon dissipated.  _Magic._  She could watch it at work now. That would take some getting used to.

"But pet.  _Do_  tell me if you are getting any more headaches, or feeling at all unwell. Your body is clearly taking quite some time to adjust to the amplifications of your abilities, and I want to be sure you are adjusting well." She nodded at this admonishment, blushing at the thought that she hadn't told him something was wrong when she ought to have weeks ago. "Yes Master."

"Good girl." He cast a playful wink in her direction. "Now come, attend me in the bath, and then we will have some breakfast."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> Please also come and [say hi on Tumblr!](http://firstorder-pixie.tumblr.com) I'd love to chat ;)


	3. Study and Practise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne begins her tutelage on the subject of the Arcane, with Loki as her strict teacher. His methods may turn out to be a bit more unorthodox than Anne bargained for!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is why Loki never became a teacher, these are highly inappropriate teaching methods, Loki.  
> Exposition on the nature of magic! Whee!
> 
> Please comment and let me know what you think! Just what is Loki up to? ;)

_There are two types of energy forces that are commonly referred to as 'magic'. The first is seidr, raw magic. It is found in nature, in the plants and the earth, in the air, in the seas. It flows out of the branches of Yggdrasil itself, and is the source of all magical power in the Nine Realms. Seidr is the magic that holds the Realms together and binds them as one. It is undisciplined and chaotic, uncultured and wild._

_Realms such as Vanaheim and Asgard are fully saturated with seidr. It is as much a part of them as the air. It sits heavily on and within all things. In the secondary magical realms such as Alfheim or Nidvalir, seidr flows like a river, creating large deposits and permeating the earth. In the lesser realms, such as Midgard, the presence of seidr is a rarity._

_The second magical energy force  is the power that flows through the body of an organic life form and allows them access to seidr. This is known as ingole. A body has inherent ability, it is either infused with ingole, or it is not. The possession of ingole is required in order to work magic, and is an extension of the wielders self; their mind, soul and will. Most sorcerors are born with ingole, although it is not impossible to imbue a previously bereft body with it, though it is no simple feat._

_The study of the energies of magic and the language of magic is known as Arcana._

 

Her eyes took in the words on the page. They had been written at first in Asgardian, but with a wave of Loki's hand and the utterance of some strange words, the text had shimmered. Bright green light clung to the pages, and changed the text to English. The book in her hands looked ancient, its pages yellowed with time, though it was in excellent condition. There was not a tear to be seen, all of the pages pristine and well kept. Still, it had the smell of age, and was heavy in her hands. She felt small before this piece of ancient history, her fingertips brushing across pages that contained knowledge completely foreign to humanity.  
  
" _You_ do not have ingole running through your veins, as is evidenced by the fact that you have no magical aura. You have no access to seidr, the life force of Yggdrasil. Generally speaking, ingole and seidr work hand in hand: it is the sorcerers ingole that allows them to affect and use seidr. You however, are different. You have no ingole of your own, but what you should be able to do, with practice, is to take and use ingole as provided by a nearby sorcerer. Ingole is the magical energy that you can currently  _see_. It manifests as auras around magic users, as well as the streams that you see when magic is accessed and used. It is... a more practical and  _controlled_  extension of seidr."  
  
Loki's words cut through her thoughts as she finished the introductory paragraphs on the nature of magic. It was all very confusing, and she wasn't sure she completely grasped the nuanced differences between the form of magical energy that she could see and effect, and the forms that were still invisible to her eye. But she made certain to pay close attention as he spoke. She frowned some as she went back through her memory to all the times she had seen him and others work magic.  
  
"I've been able to see magic before... sometimes there's a green mist around you.... come to think of it I've seen a green mist when the Lady Amora casts as well." It had never been exactly the same as it was now. Now it was bright and vivid, green light that danced on the edges of his body and extended outwards whenever he called upon his knowledge and power to effect the world around him. The mist that had clung to him, as well as others, was not quite the same.

"Mist is at times a  _physical_  manifestation of magic use, a byproduct." He explained, his voice patient as he sorted through the concepts before them as though he were speaking to a child.  "All can see that, and it usually only happens with particularily complex spells, such as  teleportation for example. The mist is not magic, it is produced _by_ magic. What you can see _now_  is the magic itself."

She nodded her understanding, though it all seemed so complex to her mind. Different forms of energies, magical manifestations and the language of the arcane...  it all seemed a bit much for her to grasp. She looked again to the book in her hands and began to flip through it, wondering just how difficult learning all of this would be.

  
"The book is for you to study in your own time. It primarily goes into depth about the language of the arcane. You may be able to capture magical energies, but just like with code you cannot  _wield_  them in any real capacity if you do not understand the language that makes it up. So from today forward, you are to study until you are suitably fluent in Arcana. I will be testing you periodically to see how you are progressing."  
  
Loki's words washed over her as she flipped the pages with delicacy, taking in page after page of intense language study and practical application. It was likely the most beginner of books on the subject, but she felt overwhelmed and out of her depth. She slowly nodded her head, licking her lips before replying. "Yes, Master."  
  
He folded his hands behind his back as he watched her, seated at the desk in his personal chambers. From where he stood he looked quite the Professor, diligently watching over the student who was struggling to wrap her mind around new concepts. He smiled and extended a hand towards her, which she reached out to take in her own. Rising out of the chair and away from the desk she followed his lead. When her hand touched his, there was a brilliant flash of light. Instead of darkness overtaking her as the room began to spin, there was a swirl of green that swallowed up all the shapes around her. It began to rearrange itself into new shapes, until it became bright again, forming into a forest. 

They were outside, in a clearing, in the acres of forest around the elven manor in which they currently resided.  She had to take a moment to reorient herself. Teleportation had never before been so... dazzling. She looked into his eyes, and they seemed even brighter than usual in the elven daylight, the perfect green to match the manifested colour of his magical energies. They seemed to dance with a mischievous glint as his smile widened across his handsome features.

"Now, pet... let's play a game." She watched him with fascination as he raised a hand, a swirl of green energy coming together to form a hovering globe of magic that spun above his fingertips.     
"If you can manage to steal this ball of magic from me..." He passed the sphere from hand to hand. It was not large, no bigger perhaps than her head, and seemed like it weighed nothing at all. "...and pass it through  _that_ hoop.." He pointed to a tree behind him whose branches had grown twisted into a rounded opening. Then he directed her gaze behind her, to a similar tree which had also, like a mirror of the first, formed a circular opening in its branches. "Before I can can get it through  _that_  one, I'll give you a reward."

His playful wink made her flush, and she found herself smiling shyly despite herself. "But..." he gave the magic sphere a spin in his hands and it danced across them, rolling through the air around his arms. "If  _I_  get it through first, I'll give you a punishment." The wicked promise that rolled off his tongue was playful, but she gulped back a feeling of nervous anticipation as she watched him and the ball that was to be her first test.

"That...that hardly sounds fair Master..." she protested, blushing as she felt her lips turn in a pout. "You're a master sorcerer from Asgard and I.. I'm just a human who's never touched magic before in her life!" It wasn't that she didn't trust him, or worried that the so-called 'punishment' would be too much to bear...  but she desperately wanted to impress him. She felt nervous that she would not be able to do as he hoped.

"Tsk... just what kind of teacher do you take me for?" He smiled a cheerful smile as he moved the ball effortlessly behind his shoulders and around again. "I am not setting you an impossible task. I will only be using as much power to block you as would a novice. That will be plenty difficult as it is." His tongue in cheek tone of voice lifted her spirits; it was rare that she got to see him this playful, and she loved very much to see this side of him. 

"Ready?" The sphere of magic rolled around his hand as he passed it around. He almost had the appearance of a street performer, a magician putting on a light show for an enraptured audience of one. The thought made her smile, and she nodded her head with only the slightest hint of reluctance. "Yes, Master."

He smirked a cruel smile and nodded, flinging the ball into the air, where it hovered, spinning in place, a bright ball of light that in the forested glade managed to outshine even the sunlight. _"Go."_

She moved without thinking towards it, reaching out a hand to grasp at it, but it was unmoving. Her fingers passed through it like it was nothing, an ethereal projection that had no physical form, quite unlike the last time he had allowed her to try to affect his magic energy. She could hear his amused laughter as he came up before her, reaching out to pluck it out of the air with ease. It responded to his touch at once, without a hint of difficulty.   
  
Then he was moving towards the other end of the clearing with all the grace and coiled power of a wildcat. She turned to reach out for the globe that rested upon his fingertips, but he was moving past her towards the goal, only a few paces away.

"Ah!" She gasped in surprise at the speed with which he moved, pushing herself to keep up with him. She ran around to face him, blocking his path to the goal she was tasked with protecting. They faced each other for only a moment before he was dodgeing to the side of her to circle around, and as he did so she took the opportunity to reach again for the ball. 

Frustration made her cry out again as her hand went right through the glowing energies.  It continued until she felt his arm under her fingers, grasping at him in an effort to halt his progress. It was to no avail, as he simply turned to the side, passed the sphere to his other hand, and put the ball right through the branches. Upon passing through, it shimmered for a moment before dissipating before her eyes. 

She frowned and drew in a deep breath, disappointed in herself for not having been able even to touch it, let alone physically capture it from him. Her movements stilled as she watched him turn to her, a smug and self satisfied grin on his face. His form was intimidating and tall as he moved closer to her and she felt herself blush at the intense scrutiny with which he regarded her. His hand extended to gesture towards a nearby tree, making a swift circling motion with his finger. 

"Up against the tree now. Stick out your ass." She pouted but obliged, moving to brace herself against the tree. Her front pressed flat against it and she pushed her ass out, just as directed. It was a familiar position, and she could already feel her pussy begin to tingle in anticipation as he moved behind her. His hand reached out to hike up her skirt, pulling it up to her waist to expose her rounded ass. His other hand exploring the curves with a gentle touch. The warmth from his body enveloped her and she squirmed under his attentions before he leaned over her to whisper in her ear.

"So beautiful... How I  _love_  to see you so eager and  _obedient_ , my pet." The whispers made her whimper as his tongue darted out to explore her ear before he withdrew again. "It will be  _five_ for loosing to me. Count them." She took a deep breath and nodded, her ass swaying in the air as she contemplated what was coming. Eager and expectant, she waited. "Yes Master."

The first came hard, not the gentle start that he usually employed. She cried aloud as the hard slap of his hand hit her bare ass and she found her back arching in surprise. "One!" The count was breathed, and his hand slid across the now sensitive skin with tenderness, before another was landed. "Two!" The cry was louder, the strike harder and in the same place. She jerked away from him, only to be caught by his hands holding her hips in place.

"Now now... you know better than that, pet. Keep your position, or I will be forced to bind you, wont I?".  She nodded, her fists balled against the tree in front of her. 

 "I'm sorry Master!"   
His hand soothed her skin, a loving smile upon his lips. He nodded, and once again she felt his hand connect with her skin, just as hard as the last, this time on the opposite cheek. She gasped and clenched her fists, forcing out the word,  _"Three!"_

Her clit was beginning to ache, desperate for attention as his hand continued its assault on her ass, and when the cry of  _"Four!"_ came, she was rocking back to meet his hand, moaning with need for his touch. His knee pressed up behind her, spreading her legs and preventing her from attempting to find release, though she knew better than to do so had he not.  _"Five!"_ came the final cry, and he withdrew, his eyes roaming accross her now reddened bottom. His laughter in her ears made her want to drop to her knees to please him, but she knew that she had not been given leave to move yet. 

"Your ass is  _so_  pretty after a good spanking, did you know that pet? So  _red_... such a nice colour." She panted and squirmed where she stood, her knees begining to shake, but it wasnt enough. She could withstand far greater pains than a handful of strikes from his palm, hard though they were. She wanted  _more_ , and she knew that he knew that.  
  
"I thought you preferred  _green_ , Master." She retorted, still trying her hardest to keep from closing her legs. She wanted to squeeze them together and beg him for release. He only laughed and moved close to her, his fingers finding the source of her frustration at once, and she moaned aloud at his touch.

" _Cheeky little thing._  Come now... it's time to try again." She bit her lip to keep from screaming in frustration as he withdrew, moving once again to the center of the clearing. The green sphere of magic materialized again in his palm, hovering just above his fingertips, and she let loose a sigh of resignation. So the so called 'punishment' was to continue the lesson in this state, her ass still aching and begging for further attention, the skin still burning with desire for more.

Taking a deep breath, she set herself before him, narrowing her eyes in determination and squaring her shoulders.  _This time... this time she would get it._  
"Yes, Master." Her response made his smile broaden, the spirit of play still alive in the twinkle of his eyes. The ball was once again set in the air, and he nodded in her direction.   
_"Go."_

This time she moved quickly, launching herself at the sphere that dangled in front of her face. She tried to still her mind and force all thoughts away as she focused on the task of touching it.  _If she could only touch it..._

To her dismay, her hands once again passed right through it, not allowing her any kind of purchase. He grasped it, snatching it right out of the air before her eyes. She gritted her teeth and followed him this time, moving to block his path, her hands out to grab at what could just as well have been thin air. Her hands crashed down on his arms, and he only laughed and spun around to dodge her, forcing her to circle him and pull at his elbow. 

The match did not last long, before he was at the goal again. She stood directly in front of it, putting her hands between the ball and the goal, but the ball passed right through her flesh as though it did not exist. An exasperated groan left her throat as she watched the magic disapear once again. She paused and came to stand with her hands at her side, awaiting his command. Her body tingled with the promise of the punishment to come, eager to  _feel_  him again and to  _scream_  for him again.  _Perhaps loosing wasn't so bad..._

"Back against the tree this time." He commanded her, and she moved to obey. Her back pressed up against it, and she felt her thighs shift against each other as they began to slicken. Her ass stung as the bark pressed into the already agitated skin. He stood over with with authority and dominance, making her quiver and all but swoon before him. Looking up at him, he seemed the perfect image of power.

She rested her hands on the tree behind her, waiting for him to do as he would. The nearness of his body pinning her in place was overwhelming. His hands roughly reached out to the front of her dress, ripping it open to expose her breasts. The tear and give of the fabric was exciting in its own right; he did not always bother to rip the clothes from her flesh when he could just as easily disappear them with magic. But the act was visceral and animalistic, and her breath came hot and heavy as she watched him.

He drew from a pocket what looked like a little golden bell. It rang as it moved, a beautiful and clear sound that had a musical quality. She thought it was quite pretty, but as she looked at it closer she realized with a delicious start that it was attached to a rather firm looking clamp.  He held it within her view for a moment, letting understanding dawn on her, before he leaned over her, taking her breast in hand. 

A gasp stuck in her throat as he pinched a nipple between his fingers, massaging it to firmness before the clamp was opened. A shudder ran through her body, but she did not make any attempt to move away from him. She screamed, putting her head back against the tree, when the clamp snapped into place, her sensitive nipple throbbing with pain. 

 _"Lovely..."_  he mused, before giving her a warm pat on the shoulder.  _"Try again._  And here's a hint... no amount of grit and determination will overcome my block. This is a battle of  _wills_. You must bend the magic to your  _will_  by overcoming mine."

She bit her lip, holding back from squirming at the pressure and ache in her breast. Nodding, she took a deep breath and set her mind to the task once more. "Yes Master."  
The globe was once again set to hover in the air, and once again she heard his strict, teacherly tones proclaim, "Go!"

Instead of leaping for the ball this time, she closed her eyes and internalized the task.  _A battle of wills_ , is what he'd said.... She calmed herself, trying to reach out towards the magic with her mind. It was like when she had been facing against Doom, the technology which should have easily responded to her blocked off, her mind coming up against a pressence that she could not overpower. It was  _will_ , a strength of mind, that had to be trained in order to overcome such a block.

He had already grasped the sphere in hand, but instead of going directly for the prize, she instead moved to his body to make a connection. If she could overcome him, then theoretically the magic should respond to her enough to grasp hold of it. The bell chimed as she moved towards him, placing herself between him and the goal, and put her hands out to his chest.

She made contact, and felt a surge of understanding. It wasn't enough to try to overcome his block... no, she had to _understand_ him. His magic was an extension of his own will, an expression of his power. She drew in a deep breath, and  _then_  allowed herself to reach for the ball. Pain coursed through her breast, but it gave her another layer of comprehension. It was her  _tie_  to him, the bond forged by his control. The jingle focused her as she felt her hand finally make contact with the magic that swirled in his grasp.

Too late. The ball flew over her head, and it was through the goal. She groaned and stepped back, shaking from the effort. Her body ached and shook, but she bowed her head awaiting the punishment of another loss. His hand pointed again, and she backed up against the tree once more.

"You are getting the hang of it now, pet.." he smiled, drawing from his pocked another bell, and taking her other breast in hand. She closed her eyes and waited, drawing in ragged breaths as she felt his hands roam her body. Then she heard the chime of the bell and the clamp was on down, a cry of pain escaping her lips. She opened her eyes to look at him, eyes darkened now with undisguised lust. His grin met her desire with equal abandon before he withdrew. 

 _"Again."_ She nodded and pulled away from the tree, panting and trying to set aside the sound of the bells that chimed in acknowledgment of the pain they shot through her with each movement. She barely heard him say "Go!" again, her mind so clouded by pain and desire, but she was once again finding herself faced off against him. Their bodies moved around each other, and she reached for the ball in his hand once more, finding it solid to her touch. It responded to her, though now she had the task of physically stealing it away from him.

He passed it from hand to hand teasingly, laughed as he watched her dive for it, attempt to snatch it away from him. The match was more physical than the others, and the bells filled the whole clearing with the sound of their chimes as she moved. They were joined by her gasps and whimpers, wincing and reveling in the feeling of his power controlling her and the connection that bound them together. That was what made the magic solid, that was what made it respond to her.  
Fingers closed around the ball and she pulled, pulling it away from him for just a moment.  _She had it, she had the ball, she just needed to get to the goal..._  
  
His hands stopped her, wrapping around her waist and pulling her back. She cried out as a sharp stab of pain coursed through her from her breast, before she took another breath and whirled around to face him again, this time her back to his own goal. He reached out to pluck the ball from her hands but she moved her elbow to block him, catching him in the face with a well landed blow. When he staggered back in suprise, her eyes widened and she dropped the sphere, which fell to hover inches off the grass below their feet.

 _"Master!"_ she panted, out of breath and horrified at what she had done. "I... I'm  _so sorry_.. I didn't mean to _I swear_ Master!" He only laughed, throwing his head back and giving in to a deep chortle, authentic mirth filling the clearing. Then, once he had regained his composure, he cast a wink in her direction before he scooped up the ball, and had plunked it through the goal in one swift instant.

Her eyes widened as she processed what had happened, before her brows narrowed and her lips pouted. "That's...  _that's not fair!_ " She protested. He advanced upon her swiftly, taking her shoulders in hand and pushing her down to the ground. He was breathless himself as he overpowered her, straddling her body with his own and grasping her legs to push them apart. "It's not... but _surely_  you know that I do not play fair."

She blushed and acquiesced to his every whim, allowing him access to all of herself where she lay in a quivering heap on the ground. A third bell sounded to join the others as he hoisted one leg up, exposing her now dripping wet center. "So _wet,_  such a little slut... do you enjoy the torment so much?" He teased, before she could hear the bell ringing again. She shook and braced herself, knowing _just how much this one was going to hurt..._

A strangled cry echoed through the woods as the third bell clamped down on her clit. Her hips writhed and squirmed, the sudden pain and stimulation reducing her to a mewling mess.   
"Oooh...  _Master._.. yes...  _I do_.. I... please please,  _please make me cum_ Master, _it hurts so good_..." She no longer carried any qualms about admitting to him the most depraved of her lusts, begging him for release, and becoming the slut he so loved to see. He grinned in approval, before getting up to his feet and towering over her once more.

"Not yet, pet. I did tell you I'd give you a reward if you could win a match did I not?  _Try again_."   
His hand reached out to her to help her to her feet, and she took it gladly, her face hot and red as she stumbled to a standing position before him. The magic ball of energy reappeared in his hand before he set it again in the air.  _"Go."_

This time she grabbed it, snatched it out of the air before he could get to it, and determinedly moved around him to aim for the goal. Her movements were feral now, desperate and lacking in grace, but they propelled her closer to the tantalizing promise of victory. His body moved to block her, but she ducked under his legs, causing him to laugh aloud in surprise. As he turned to follow her, she wobbled on her feet but kept going. 

His hand grasped her shoulder, and she spun to face him, moved the ball to her other hand and extended her arm as long as it would go to keep it out of his reach. He followed, moving his frame around her with cat like grace, and plucked the ball from her grip. She howled  a sound of frustration, bells ringing as she leapt to follow it, knocking him over and landing on him in a tumble of limbs. She ignored his  as she scrambled after the ball, grabbing it once again and getting up,  just barely managing to plunk it through the goal as he was himself getting to his feet and dusting himself off.

She felt a wide smile spread across her face as she stood there, panting and incredulous.  _She had done it._  She had managed to win a match of his game. She knew that he had been holding back immensely, and that even still she had had to make use of their previous connection in order to make it work, something she would not be able to do with other sorcerors. But she had done it.

" _Well done_ , very good job pet." He was laughing and breathing heavily as he approached her, and she turned with a beaming smile on her face, matching his. "I'm so  _very_  proud of you."

Then he was pushing her down to her knees, and she felt a swell of gratitude well up within her as she assumed her position before him, nuzzling her face to his legs and gripping the fabric of his clothes with her hands.  _"Thank you Master"_  She breathed, and he patted her head with warmth and affection.

"Hmm...you are welcome. Now tell me, pet... what would you like as your reward?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> Please also come and [say hi on Tumblr!](http://firstorder-pixie.tumblr.com) I'd love to chat ;)


	4. Chaos vs Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is systematically tracking down all within his kingdom who were loyal to Victor Von Doom, and more than a few of them have found that their time is up. 
> 
> Meanwhile Bruce is coming to terms with the realities of his new life under the rule of the god of Mischief, but just what exactly does that mean?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been waiting for a while now to write this chapter, to explore some of these concepts. Exposition on the nature of Chaos vs Order, as well Loki getting a chance to be a BAMF dealing with the remnants of Doom's crew :D
> 
> Please comment and let me know what you thought!

  
"Please, My King, _I beg you!"_  
The frantic man had an expression of pure horror written upon his face. Previously having been seated in a simple looking office chair opposite the impressive and wide desk, the chair was now upturned and flung to the side. The man now cowering on his knees, his hands clasped together and raised in supplication. "I _swear_ I didn't know Doom wasn't operating under your orders!" His words were a frenzy of begging and pleading, and from where Loki sat behind the desk, tall and regal, the mortal looked like quite the perfect little slave.

"I'm loyal, I swear it My King, _I never knew!_ I was.. I was just following orders... please, _please believe me,_  please have _mercy!_ " The pleas continued to tumble from the mans lips util Loki raised a hand to signal silence. The man shut up in an instant. The god's words were soft as he spoke, gesturing with his hand towards himself.    
"Stand up." The man stood, tears streaking down his face and his body trembling with fear. Loki continued to gesture to him to advance, so he walked up to the desk, though his feet seemed leaden and reluctant to do so. 

When he was standing directly in front of the desk, Loki smiled a cruel smile, like a cat toying with its meal. _  
"Come here."_ The man looked confused, but leaned forward to come closer to the one who was about to choose his fate. 

"No, closer. That's it." He leaned as far as he could over the desk, shaking in his boots. He had to use his hands to steady himself, bracing himself against it. "Closer. Come _all the way over here."_ This time Loki's voice held a note of warning, as though his patience was beginning to wear thin, but his smile never faltered. 

The man was forced to crawl over the desk, swallowing back the indignation and the humiliation, ignoring the others in the room who looked on. At Loki's side stood his chief spy, an elf from Alfheim, holding a notebook and watching with impassive eyes. And Doctor Banner, perhaps the only friendly face in the room, but even he wore an unreadable expression. To have his utter humiliation and possibly his last moments in this life so displayed like this in front of others... he forced himself to ignore it, willing to submit to the cruel treatment if it might buy his life.

So he crawled, came as close to Loki as he dared, until his face was inches from the god's. He was shaking and a smell began to fill the room that made his nose crinkle. It took him a moment before he realized that it was coming from him, the wet feeling running down his leg a testament to his own cowardice. Loki smiled he watched this pathetic wretch of a mortal, who he had so easily reduced to nothing. The man was an engineer, one of the ones who had worked on Doom's machine. He trembled as he whispered one final plea, _"Please... My King..."_  
  
The grin on Loki's face widened with a smug and self satisfied air. He lifted his hand towards the mans face, and he cringed away from him, bracing himself for the worst. It took everything in him not to burst out laughing at the sheer lunacy of it all... at what the man must be imagining and fearing from him. When the blow came, it was a quick flick with his fingers on the mans forehead.

The mans eyes, screwed shut in anticipation of the end, opened wide, as a sudden lurch in his stomach that felt horrifyingly like hope gave him pause. His mind raced to process what was happening as he stared into the eyes of mischief. Those eyes were laughing at him.  
  
When Loki spoke his voice was teasing, but not cruel. "I believe you. There is no lie in your words. You may return to your duties."   
The man scrambled off the desk as quick as he dared, rushing to put his last shreds of dignity back together again as he stood once more. "Thank you... _thank you my King thank you!"_ Relief washed over him and tears began to flow freely. He had half a mind to drop to his knees again and worship the ground this merciful ruler walked on, but he stayed standing, waiting for Loki's dismissal.

With a wave of his hand the dismissal came. Loki turned away from him as though uninterested, and the man bolted for the door as quick as he could, never having been more in a rush to leave a place in all his life. As the door closed behind him, Loki's attention was on the elf at his side. Banner moved to replace the chair, coming around the desk to pick it up and put it to rights as the two other men conversed. 

"Who is next on the list to interview?" The elf looked down at his notebook, where a list of names were compiled along with job descriptions. Here was named every single person who had worked for Victor Von Doom on his siphon project, along with all members of military who had followed his orders during Loki's absence. The vast majority of them, Loki knew, would be otherwise loyal subjects who had not had any reason to suspect that the Stewart appointed by their King was a traitor. But some of them had been in the know of Doom's nefarious schemes, and those traitors must be rooted out and dealt with. Over the past few months there had already been a few public executions, and he was sure there would be a few more before the list was finished.

"A _Justin Hammer_ , My King." Came the elf's reply, and Loki's eyes brightened at hearing that name. He chuckled as Doctor Banner returned to his side, and nodded to the elf. "Very good... bring him in." 

The elf moved with lithe grace through the room and out the door. Loki folded his hands in front of him on the desk, and Bruce gave a sigh, leaning back against the wall behind him, his arms crossed over his front. In the time since the battle with Doom, Bruce had become a calmer individual, no longer worrying about waring with his other half. His fidgety movements were now stilled, which only made him harder to read. It was never easy to tell what went on inside the scientists mind.

The door opened again, and two men entered the room. The elven spy, who returned to his place beside Loki, and the simpering and familiar form of Justin Hammer. Loki's lips twitched in derision as he entered. It was difficult to mask just how much he loathed this man. He had never liked Hammer, who was the kind of person who bent over backwards and kissed ass to get ahead in life. Ironic that it would disgust him so, considering the level of devotion and submission he demanded of his servants, but Hammer's flattery and groveling manor was never sincere. He adopted the styles of a lowly subject only as an act to ingratiate himself, never out of honest devotion. 

The man made an elaborate show of bowing low before his King before he accepted the offered seat. "My King... you wished to see me?" The chair creaked under him as he sat, his body language and posture making him as small and unimposing as possible. Loki smiled despite himself; even though it was all an act, he had to admit that Hammer was damn good at playing it.   
  
"Justin Hammer." He pronounced each syllable in the man's name as though contemplating them with care. "I am sure you are aware that I have been conducting a survey of those who worked closely under Doctor Doom before I.... _released_ him from my service." The words hung heavy in the room, and Loki could see the smallest hint of Hammer's chance in body language. The way his pulse began to quicken. The way his breath hitched for just one small moment before he smiled. Imperceptible to most. Not to him.

"Of course, My King. It's only natural you would want to weed out the traitors. I suppose that's why I'm here, and I understand your mistrust. But I swear to you, My King, that I never knew Victor was a traitor. I would never have gone along with his orders had I known, and I would have reported his wicked deeds directly to you... you know, if I had _known_ , and if there had been some way to _contact_ you. It was all very confusing, there was no way I could _possibly_ have realized that the man _hand picked_ by your _gracious_ Majesty yourself could be a _traitor_."

He rambled for a few minutes, peppering his words with flowery language and flattery, with the insistence that he was innocent of the knowledge of the plot Doom had hatched. Loki smiled as he listened, allowing the man to talk. He shuffled a few papers on the desk as though he were considering with care the simpering fool's words. May as well let the man humiliate himself without his help. When there was a pause in Hammer's speech, Loki cut in, a page out of his dossier in hand.

"I understand that you and Victor Von Doom had _prior history_ together. You did, after all, _enter my employ_ together." Loki's brow quirked as he waited for Hammer's responce. The man swallowed, only the slightest sign of nervous laughter. "Oh, _yes well_ , we go back. It hurts, come to think of it. You know, you think you know a guy, and then... _BAM!_ Turns out you never knew him at all!" A bead of sweat danced on his brow as he scrambled to layer excuse upon excuse.

"I'm rather _impressed_ , Hammer..." Loki began as he leafed through the pages with a casual air, " _Flattered,_ really, at your loyalty to me. According to these, Victor was rather _instrumental_ in your past. After being so  _thoroughly_ defeated and humiliated by Iron Man, your company in shambles and your reputation shot, on the run from the authorities, it was _Victor_ that took you in and gave you asylum. Most would assume this would generate some _loyalty to him_."   
  
Justin reached up to loosen the collar of his shirt, tugging at the tie as he listened to Loki's words. Loki stood from where he sat, and the sudden height dwarfed the smaller man, still seated in the office chair. "Of course, _I_ would hardly make that assumption." He tapped the papers in his hands together on the desk, setting them down in a nice and neat pile before he began to come around to where Hammer sat.

Hammer watched him with growing apprehension as he neared, forcing an amiable smile on his face. Loki advanced, the two others in the room looking on without so much as a peep, bored expressions upon their faces as though they were just waiting for Loki to finish his business here so they could be done and go get some lunch.  
" _I_ don't believe you are _capable_ of such a sentiment. So tell me, why did you help him? It wasn't out of loyalty to _him_. Perhaps it was out of resentment to _me._ Perhaps you were just biding your time as you hatched your _own_ schemes. Or... perhaps you just wanted a chance to _fuck my slave."_

Hammers eyes went wide at that, his compliant manor and act of submission in an instant giving way to a very real fear for his life. "I... I _don't know what your talking about_ , My King! I am _loyal!_ L..Loyal to _you_ , I _swear_ it! Doom meant nothing to me!" He babbled as Loki drew closer, and suddenly his shoulders were gripped by the god's hands, pinning him to the chair as he gazed up into that face that betrayed no anger or malice, only amusement and play. As though at any moment Loki would laugh, tell him this was all a prank, and let him go. 

"Don't fret, Hammer... Your death will be quick and painless. It wont even be publicly held, so you need fear no humiliation or degradation the likes of which I gave to Victor. In fact it wont matter to _anyone at all._ Nobody will notice your absence or miss you. You can leave this world as  _insignificantly_ as you walked through it." His eyes bored into his subjects, bright and piercing, holding his gaze with a steady intensity. Justin found he could not look away, staring deep into Loki's eyes before he felt a hand press against his chest. And that was the last thing he was aware of before his heart stopped.  
  
He straightened over the now limp body and gestured towards it, head tilting towards the elf as he moved back around the desk. _"Dispose of it."_ His air was casual and disinterested, and promptly no more attention was deigned to be given to the fallen form of his treacherous subject.  
  
He seated himself again in the chair as the elf hauled the body away, out the door, absently sorting through some of the papers and files that cluttered the desk. When the door shut behind the leaving servant, he noted a shift in Bruce's posture and though he did not look up from the papers at hand, he addressed the man who stood dutifully at his side with an air of bored curiosity. 

"You disapprove of my methods?" He inquired of the man, who stood straighter at being addressed and shook his head. He coughed into his hand, a nervous gesture that betrayed his discomfort. "I didn't say anything." He had not been willingly in the King's service for long, and it was not an easy transition to make.   
  
"You did not, but your body language speaks loudly enough. Do you think I should have let him live?" Loki turned now to fully regard his subject, who looked reluctant to speak up. Bruce sighed before looking away, and spoke his mind. "I think people should have a trial. _My King."_

Loki chuckled some at that sentiment before shaking his head. "That man was a traitor. Not only was he a traitor, he intended to rape my woman, and would have done so had he not been a sniveling coward who skulked away at the mention of my wrath. If people are to fear and obey me, they must see that I deal with such insubordination with a _firm_ hand. That is why the executions are generally public."

Bruce frowned and gestured to the door where the body had been dragged out. " _His_ wasn't public." The statement was made not as a challenge, but as an inquiry, and Loki nodded in accordance with the question.   
"Hammer was more _personal._ Besides, his body will be seen by many and handled by those who dispose of such things. Word will get out, and that is enough to enforce control. Sometimes whispers are more effective than grand displays."

There was a moment of contemplation before Bruce spoke up again.  
"That's something I've been rather curious about actually." At his words Loki looked at him expectantly, allowing him the chance to voice his questions. "You exercise a good deal of _control_ around here... the level of protocol and _discipline_ you demand of those who serve you is quite strict. In short, you run a rather impressively tight ship."   
Loki's eyes bored into the mortal as he spoke, before he inclined his head in acknowledgement. "That is an _observation_ , not a question." The man felt like squirming under the intensity of his gaze, but resisted the urge.  
  
"Well you know... I've read Norse Mythology, King _Loki_. You were known as the God of _Chaos_ and _Mischief_ , of _Deceit_ and _Trickery._ And yet this whole..." he gestured with a broad sweeping arm, " _Reign_ of yours... seems a little _lawful_ and _ordered_. Kind of not what I'd think of from a _God of Chaos._ "

At that Loki's face broke into a grin and he laughed, an amused and ringing sound of mirth as she shook his head. "Ah, yes well, that is actually a rather common misconception. You must keep in mind that those titles were given to us by our Midgardian worshipers, and mortals, though they mean well enough, do not always understand things as well as they _think_ they do." He paused as he sat back in his chair, lounging with a lazy posture and crooking one leg over the other. " _Chaos and Mischief_... those are tools, _weapons_ that I am skilled and adept at _using._ They do not _define_ me any more than your other half defines you. I use chaos as a means to _enforcing order_."

Bruce looked thoughtful as he listened to this explanation of conflicting concepts. Loki smiled as he leaned back, stretching like a cat where he sat. "My favorite title the worshipers of Midgard ever gave me was _God of Stories_. A story needs conflict before there can be _resolution_ and the characters can _change and grow_. Chaos must be introduced into the narrative before the ending can be realised. So I introduce chaos.  
  
Take _Anne_ for example. I had to destroy her, rip her apart piece by piece, and strip away from her _everything that she_ was before I was able to _put her back togethe_ r to be the obedient and _disciplined_ subject that she is. The _rigid structure_ and order in her life was _created_ out of the ashes of chaos. And although the methods certainly differed, I did much the same with _you._ Tell me, how have you felt since the battle against Victor, when you finally _accepted_ my control?"

Bruce frowned and considered this for a moment, before a reluctant admittance was drawn from him. "I've felt... more calm, more at _peace_ than I have in... _years_. Since the accident that created the other guy. It's.... _simpler._ A _lot_ simpler to not have to _worry_ about what I will or wont do while I'm him. Since I'm not... in control, neither is he, and that means that I can _relax._ I can still feel him there, at the corners of my mind, but its calmer, knowing that he isn't going to take over. He'll come out when he's called, and _that's it_. So I'm not as agitated. It's the closest I've felt to normal in so long."

The admittance made him feel ashamed somehow, his face burning with embarrassment at the fact. That his life, and his mind, were calmer and more _peaceful_ under Loki's control. There was still a resistant part of himself that nagged at the back of his mind that it was _wrong_ , that being happier under the control of another was somehow not right. But Loki's voice was understanding and chased that thought away. "And _that_ , good Doctor," Loki smiled a gentle smile, "Is the difference between _using_ chaos, and _being used by_ chaos."

"So you _tame_ chaos, then?" Bruce was still struggling to understand the dualistic nature of Loki's philosophy. The god grinned and nodded in approval, bowing his head with a flourish of his hand. "It is my _specialty_. I use lies and wreck havoc. I _bend_ the forces of discord to my will, and _use_ them as weapons. And in so using them, I mold from the ruins _New Order._  
  
I can tell you still don't completely  _approve_. You think the destruction I bring  _abhorrent_. And yet, _here you are._  You will not _leave_ , because you have already had a _taste_ of the order that I bring, and _you do not want to loose it._ You do not want to go back to being so consumed. You _need_ my hand to _tame your chaos._ "

Bruce sighed as he thought on these words. It was with a sinking feeling that he realized that Loki was right. About everything. He didn't like it.... but he _needed_ it. And maybe, if he could benefit so much from Loki's rule and control imposed upon him, maybe others really could as well. Anne certainly seemed to have benefited from it. How else could she had fallen as obviously in love as she had? She did not seem to be suffering under his ownership, instead _flourishing_ , beaming whenever the mans gaze fell upon her. It was a mad new world he found himself in now, where everything was upside down. Being lowered was akin to being raised, and having his freedom stripped from him was in turn the most _freeing_ thing that had ever happened to him.

He knew Loki was right. He didn't like it yet... but he wasn't going anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> Please also come and [say hi on Tumblr!](http://firstorder-pixie.tumblr.com) I'd love to chat ;)


	5. Arriving in Vanaheim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki takes Anne with him to meet with the Queen of Vanaheim. While the monarchs discuss political alliances between their realms, Anne will be used as entertainment for their pleasure. But just what does Loki have up his sleeve...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOKAY this chapter ended up WAY longer than I had expected, but here you go! Some smut, some exposition, some politics! Booyah. Little bit of everything.

Anne stood before the portal, waiting with a calm sense of purpose as she stood beside her Master. She was dressed in a resplendent slave outfit, more jewelry than clothing, gold dripping off of her shoulders and around her midsection. Loki had rarely done her up in so regal a slave's garb; usually formal occasions called for consort's gowns and covered much more skin. This occasion, however, was going to be very different. She felt a nervous knot forming in her stomach as she wondered just what this expedition would be like.  
  
Loki was directing his guards and entourage, positioning his men. They were mostly for show and posterity of course. This was a political trip, and everyone knew that when he was serious about making a show of force, he brought Bruce.  
  
He had coached her earlier on what would be expected of her. Vanaheim was a very different Realm than Alfheim, and it was imperative that she observe their cultural expectations of her.

 

  
  
_"The vanir, unlike the elves of Alfheim, keep many slaves. There are certain behaviors that you will be expected to follow. While we are in the Queens court, you will not speak unless spoken to. You will keep your eyes averted and not meet the gaze of any. You will do as you are told without question, and you will stay by my side at all times.”_

“ _Yes Master...” She was responded, dutifully bowing her head in respect, but the hesitancy in her voice was more than apparent. The last time he had introduced her to someone above her in station, it had not ended well. He seemed to know her thoughts, drawing her close to him then, his voice softening.  
“Do not be so troubled. Amora is a jealous bitch who does not respect any but herself. The people of Vanaheim will have respect for you, because they will respect me, and you belong to me. No one will dare to mistreat you, it would be a slight against a very honored guest. You are my property, and that by itself is enough to ensure your safety.”_

 

  
  
Now, as the portal loomed before her, she rehearsed the instructions in her mind. Nervousness twisted inside of her, but she took a deep breath and steadied herself. When his arm circled her shoulders, hand clasping her towards him, she felt her worries and fears begin to melt away. A smile spread across her lips as she felt his presence strengthen her.  
“Are you ready, my pet?” His voice was gentle and soothing, his fingers tracing affectionate caresses along her skin and she nodded.  
“Yes Master.” She was ready. She was stronger than she had been all those months ago, trembling before the abuse hurled at her from a jealous woman. She was more secure, and it was because of Loki. Only Loki mattered. No matter what transpired on Vanaheim, or how she was treated or lowered before the court or the Queen, it didn't matter. Only Loki Mattered.  
  
She bowed her head in submission as they stepped together through the portal, and Vanaheim opened up to them.  
  
She had been through the portals many times now, the sensation of being torn apart, falling to pieces and then being put back together again was a familiar one, though she suspected that she would never be completely used to it. It did not leave any lasting effect upon her any longer though, and as she felt the world spin and disassemble around her, only to come into existence again in a flash of light, she was able to stride forward without a moments pause. Then she saw Vanaheim.

They had stepped out on a large dais, and she was amazed at the sight that greeted them. Large columns and spiral staircases extended out from the entrance point, and a little ways off was a tall tower, steps leading up to an elaborate palace made from marble. It was quite the contrast to the elven architecture she had grown accustomed to, which was very natural and tended to be built out of living trees and wood carvings.  
  
She marveled at the impressive size and grandeur of all the buildings that lay sprawled out beyond, overwhelmed by the scope of the place. Loki watched her with a bemused expression out of the corner of his eye as she gawked at the scenery. With a light chuckle he reached out to press the tip of his finger to her chin, closing her mouth with a gentle snap. “If you are _that_ awed by Vanaheim, my pet, just wait until you see _Asgard_.”  
  
She looked up at him with a shy smile before she remembered his instructions, quickly averting her gaze once more. He did not comment on her misdemeanor, but she flushed to realize that she had so quickly forgotten her orders. As he began to stride forward, she once again took a deep breath, and followed by his side.  
  
Magic was in the air here. She could see the evidence of it everywhere, despite not raising her eyes to meet the gaze of others. The amount of auras present as they passed by people milling about was much higher here, bright light dazzling her vision with almost as much frequency as technology back on Earth.

 

 

 

 _“What is the difference between Elven magic and Aesir magic?” She had asked him earlier, as his magic had surrounded her, shimmering and creating the gold strung garments that adorned her figure now._  
  
_“Intrinsically, nothing.” His response sounded almost amused at the question. Her studies had been thus far difficult, as she attempted to wrap her mind around foreign concepts and principles, but she was diligent and eager to learn. “It is the approach to magic that differs across cultures. In Alfheim for example, magic is quite raw and the elves are very tied to nature. Their magic incorporates the life forces of the trees and the essences of the living things around them. There are many Druids produced by Alfheim._  
  
_The aesir view magic as a stream, taking to it as a dance. They embrace the ebb and flow of magic and turn it into an art, allowing it to pull them as it will. Asgard produces many healers from its sorcerers._  
_And the vanir approach magic as a tool. To them it is solid, and concrete. They wield it as a weapon or an iron, bending it to their will and subduing it to their desires. Many battle mages come out of Vanaheim.”_  
  
_She had listened intently to his explanations, frowning some at the differences in approach between Vanaheim and Asgard. “I have seen you use magic in battle, Master?” She knew that he had some amount of talent with healing, but his forte was trickery and illusions, which he used to great effect on the battlefield. He smiled and nodded as he watched her come around him with his armor, dressing him as was her duty. Her hands worked with skill and ease now, intimately familiar with his regalia._  
  
_“Asgard as a rule values physical strength, despite how intimately infused it is with seidr, and despite how much it relies on magic for much of its workings. But my mother is of Vanaheim. The first magics I was ever taught were from her, and I have since learned as much as I can about all schools of thought on the subject.”_  
  
_As she tightened a buckle, kneeling before him with her head bowed, she considered this._  
_“How do realms like Midgard approach magic, Master?” Her voice had been tinted with curiosity. She knew there were magic users on Earth, but it was much more rare than in other realms._  
  
_“In realms that do not have much magic, there is no culture surrounding the study of magic for those rare wielders to turn to. Thus the people of these realms approach magic like they would other, more familiar things. Midgardian practitioners, such as Victor, approach magic as they would technology and machinery. They input commands and expect consistent results, and are often frustrated by the unpredictability and fickle nature of magic. Magic is not quite the same as technology, although it can be used with technology. But it is a living, breathing energy of its own, and cannot be treated like an inanimate object.”_

 

 

 

Her thoughts moved back to the present as she looked from person to person, noticing auras and the occasional stream of magic being utilized. The place was highly populated, and there were many well dressed people strewn about. Loki strode with confidence up the steps and into the tower, his entourage accompanying him with each stride. They were drawing looks, and Anne blushed at the thought of these crowds of people seeing her as exposed as she was, obviously marked as the slave of the visiting King. The sense of embarrassment quickly gave way to a feeling of pride however, as she noticed that everyone's attention was firmly on the man at her side.  
  
Loki was dressed in his most resplendent gold armor, though instead of the horned battle helmet he wore a crown that framed his face. It had shorter horns, but looked no less imposing as he strode with an air of utmost confidence through the people. It was not long before a group of dignitaries came to meet them, moving from the large doorway that lead into the palace itself. Three men approached, and Loki slowed his pace to a halt as they met, the three stooping to bow low before him before righting themselves.  
  
The one who spoke was dressed in flowing robes, his hair neatly tied back behind him. He inclined his head towards the visiting group before addressing Loki directly.  
“Welcome to Vanaheim, Loki King of Jotunheim, Midgard, and Alfheim. Queen Asta bids you welcome, and would see you and your entourage at your leisure.”  
  
Loki nodded, and Anne thought she had never seen him looking quite so regal as he did in this moment. He smiled a gracious smile, returning the bow, although not as deep or low. “Thank you, I will see the Queen at once, if she is so inclined.” Anne felt impossibly small beside him now, in the midst of these strange people, elite servants from another world and to another Queen. Being small was a comfort, however, a way to disappear and not have to worry about the impression she herself was making. Better to be all but invisible.

As the group moved again, coming up to the doors to the palace, she found herself filled with a fresh wave of awe. The interior of the marble structure was expansive and elaborate. Paintings and tapestries adorned every wall and column, and there were people about everywhere. It was easy to tell the status of those who moved through the palace, there were Lords and Ladies in beautiful flowing robes and gowns, there were palace servants wearing plainer clothes. And there were slaves, in all states of undress, half naked and dressed in see through linens and silks. Both men and women, and she felt a blush across her face at the exotic beauty of these people.  
  
She had never really seen others dressed up in the kinds of things Loki liked to put her in, and she had a sudden realization of just why he liked it so much. The slaves were beautiful, their body's perfectly on display, given accents in all of the right places and dripping with gold and jewels. When they moved their skirts moved with them, tantalizing and eye catching. They were like ethereal beings, gods and goddesses with perfect figures and beautiful faces, not shy to display themselves. It was ironic, considering their lowly position, just how much power they seemed to have, captivating the attention of others and stirring desire with a single glance.  
  
She suddenly felt all the more shy and insecure by contrast, certain that she could not possibly look as beautiful in the clothes as they did. They moved with confidence and grace, and she could not keep her eye off of them as they passed by, their allure tenfold to the more elaborate and modest clothes of the nobility.  
  
Loki moved with coiled grace and precision through the halls of the palace, and she was struck by just how in his element he appeared here. People moved aside for the group of them, parting to make way for the visiting King. She noticed in particular the way that many of the slave girls eyed him up, undisguised interest lighting up their eyes as he passed. Finally their guides stopped after having led them into a grand room filled with low tables and cushioned seats. This room seemed more private, away from the questioning glances of the nobility, but it was populated by many servants and slaves carrying trays of drinks and refreshments. Their guide gestured towards the accommodations, before giving another short bow.  
  
“My Lord, if you would be so inclined, please make yourself at home. The Queen will be with you shortly.” The man bowed and took his leave, and Loki made a grand show of seating himself, lounging back in the cushions and making himself as comfortable as he pleased. Of the four men who had accompanied him, two were court advisers who seated themselves as well, although with less display of personal gratification, and the other two were military personal, guards who stood behind him and forwent the seating, staying on duty.  
  
He reached out to take the chain that dangled from Anne's collar, attached to her top with enough length and give to function as a leash. He pulled her with a firm hand to his side, seating her on the floor at his feet. As she assumed her usual position, falling to her knees before him, she felt a wave of pride to be so displayed at his side. That feeling soon faded however as two of the slave girls on hand approached him.  
  
They were nude except for delicately laced deep burgundy panties, and jewelry upon their forearms and wrists which jingled as they moved. One was blond, wearing her hair up in braids similar to how Loki preferred to have her own hair kept, fanciful and elaborate twists leading up to a bun on the top. The other wore her dark hair plainer, in a high ponytail that was adorned with gold. Both women wore seductive smiles, eager to please. They approached from the sides, coming to sit next to him with ease and grace, letting their fingers trail across his chest. She felt herself bristle with jealousy, and flushed when she realized that _she_ had never demonstrated such _bold_ desire before him. She was much too shy to fit the part of the eager slave girl, and perhaps he would prefer the playful seduction of someone pining to be a more active participant?  
  
“Hello My Lord...” The blond women breathed in his ear, her smile positively sinful. The other girl rested against him, displaying her ample bosoms rather prominently. She was rather impressively endowed, and Anne swallowed back a cry of jealous indignation at the sight. She could feel her face growing hot, unsure what to do or if she should do anything at all. It wasn't her place, she realized sadly, to protest if her Master wished to make use of the slaves the Queen provided. He was, after all, a King, and more than within his rights to expect such luxuries. She wrestled internally with herself, trying to shove down her jealousy and detach herself emotionally from what was going on beside her.  
  
“My Queen has informed us of your visit, My Lord, and has bade us to make sure your stay here is... comfortable.” The dark haired girl was touching him provocatively, and Anne bit her lip as she watched. She felt overwhelmed now as she watched the way the two girls behaved... as much as Loki often teasingly called her his little slut or whore, she realized that this.. _. this_ was how a proper slut behaved. Eager, and happy to please. Actively making the first move to serve. She thought back to her own sexual liaisons with her King, and realized that for all of her obedience, she was never so _active_ a participant. She obeyed as she was commanded, and _he_ took the reigns. He set the pace, and brought her through experience after experience. But if this was how slaves were usually expected to behave, perhaps she wasn't being as proactive as she should....  
  
These worries dissipated in a moment. Though Loki smiled with politeness and ease, his eyes were not darkened by lust, despite the alluring bodies that were being so prominently offered to him. He gave the dark haired girl a pat on the ass as he looked between them both, their eyes averted to his gaze as was proper.  
  
“Thank you, ladies, although I am _sorely_ tempted to indulge in the Queens hospitality, I am afraid I shall have to decline. I have brought my own little pet with me, you see.” At those words she felt his hand upon her head, fingers lacing themselves through her hair, and she all but moaned at the feeling. As he drew her near to his thigh the girls pouted, tilting their heads as they looked her over, their salacious glances now turned on her.  
  
“ _Ooohh_ we can play with her _too,_ my Lord...” The words were all but purred, and she felt her face grow hot with blush as she looked at the girls. The sudden suggestion didn't alarm or horrify her the way that it had when Amora had made a passing comment about him sharing her, but it didn't particularly _appeal_ to her either.  
He chuckled at the suggestion and shook his head, his hand stroking her with a reassurance that made her swell with admiration and affection.  
“I'm afraid not, but thank you very much for the offer. Do give your Queen my thanks, and I hope I may see you again for the festivities.” Although his gaze was appreciative of their beauty, his eyes were not darkened with lust the same way they were when he looked upon his own pet. Anne felt a swell of emotion as the women got up with reluctance, fluttering their lashes and puckering their lips into pouts.  
  
“Well if you _change your mind_ , My Lord...” the blond purred, her jewelry giving a pleasant sounding jingle as she moved. “Please don't _hesitate_ to ask for us.” She winked before she and her companion left, their round and perky bottoms swaying as they moved. Her face flushed as she watched them, enchanted by the perfect sashay of their movements. They held themselves with such grace and poise that she was sure they must have been trained from birth for beauty. She on the other hand had never been a particularly feminine woman, not before Loki had gotten a hold of her. She had been called a tomboy most of her younger life, and had never really felt she measured up to those other women who seemed to embody charm.

Loki's advisers sat across from them, and each had a woman draped over them already, nubile young ladies with smooth skin and eager eyes. She could hear them giggle when the men whispered sweet nothings in their ears, happily trailing their fingers along their chests as they purred with seductive intent. The man to the left of the table looked uncomfortably overwhelmed by the girls attention, his face flushed and his manors awkward. He let her touch him, her hand moving downward across his front in slow increments, and she seemed amused by his embarrassed enjoyment of the act. The other man had a wide grin upon his face, making no attempt to hide the lust in his eyes as he let them roam across the half nude body presented to him. He cupped the girl's breast in hand, and she leaned into his touch with an only slightly exaggerated moan.  
  
Anne felt Loki's hand pat her head with warmth and affection as she gazed at the other slaves in the room. He spoke to her in low, whispered tones that she knew were meant only for her own ears.  
“Do not be so insecure, pet. I like you _just the way you are_... meek, obedient, and _unguarded_.” She smiled as she rested her head against his thigh, purring into his touch as she mulled over his words. He always seemed to know what she was thinking.  
  
As she contemplated her position, enjoying the feeling of his hand around her and his possession of her, there was a sudden commotion as all of the servants and slaves stood to their feet. The guests did likewise, all eyes turned towards the door as the nobles who had first guided them into the palace entered, followed by the most regal and beautiful woman Anne had ever seen in her life.  
  
“King Loki and entourage, may I present _Queen Asta of Vanaheim._ ”  
The woman moved with fluid grace. Her manor of dress was stunning, a long flowing gown that belled out from her waist and trailed behind her in a show of extravagance, lace trim and beautifully sown embroidery adorning it in spades. Gold was inlaid in the deep red fabric, and it seemed to shimmer as she moved, giving her the air of a being from another world. Of course, Anne reminded herself, she was exactly that. She had dark skin and long, beautifully full curls that were worn loose around her shoulders.  
  
Anne's breath was taken away as the Queen descended the steps into the room, stumbling her to feet with everyone else to bow low before her. Loki's waist bent and he lowered his own head in a gracious show of deference to his hostess, and Anne was sure to bow even lower still to show her place. Nobody moved until the Queen smiled, approaching Loki himself, and addressed them with firm command.  
“Welcome to Vanaheim, King Loki. Please, be seated.”  
  
As though on cue, everyone relaxed, the rooms collective breath released. As everyone sat back in their place, Anne moving to resume her position on her knees, Loki remained standing for a moment longer before the Queen. “Your Majesty... it has been a long time.”  
At this Queen Asta smiled wider, reaching her hand towards him. He took hold of it, pressed the back to hips lips as he bowed once again, kissing her with a flourish before releasing and seating himself.  
“It has indeed.... though when last we saw each other you were _Prince_ Loki, of _Asgard_.”  
  
Loki nodded as he watched her seat herself near him, her own people filing the room to mingle with his.  
“Quite a lot has transpired since then, Your Majesty. It has, after all, been several centuries.” As she leaned back against the cushions, draping her arms along the back and crossing her legs before her she smiled. “Indeed. I am anxious to hear all about it.”  
  
She gestured towards a servant with a casual movement of her hand, and a young looking girl appeared at her side, head bowed. “Bring in refreshments and food for our guests.” As she issued the command, hey eyes fell to Anne, still kneeling at the visiting King's feet, and Anne felt her heart begin to pound in her chest. She made sure to further lower her gaze as she felt her previous invisibility stripped from her by the Queens attention.  
“And do you wish your own slave to wait on you during the meal?”  
  
She felt her face burn with heat as Loki's eye also fell upon her.  
“I thank you, no. That is not her function.” Loki's hand moved to her neck, his fingers petting her skin with soft, delicate strokes. She felt her chest restrict and her skin heat with embarrassment at this position, forced to listen to them discuss her and her place, but stripped of the privilege of speaking herself. It made her blood race and her body quiver to think of herself like this, but she could not deny the tingle of excitement the humiliating nature of her position gave her. She could already feel her clit start to throb in appreciation.  
  
“ _Ahh._.. a _pet_ , then. Very good, I will have one of the other girls serve you.” She watched as the Queen gestured to the nearest member of staff, who stooped to hear her. Words were whispered before the girl bowed and continued on her way, and the Queens attention returned to Loki and his own slave.  
“Pretty little thing you have there...” she remarked with a smile, “Is she from Asgard?”  
  
Loki shook his head, still stroking her shoulder with affection as he spoke. “No... she is _Midgardian_.”  
At that the Queen's eyes lit up, and she leaned forward with eager curiosity. “Midgardian... how very _rare_. Of course, that _is_ one of your recent conquests. Are they not rather... _fragile?_ ” Anne blushed as she listened to the Queen's questions, as Loki chuckled and smiled.  
  
“Oh yes, _very much so_. One has to take extra care with a Midgardian slave not to _break_ them... but I must confess, I find I rather like that about them.” As Loki spoke the Queen tilted her head in amusement, a tinkling laugh filling the room at his rather brazen statement.  
“You _would_ , Loki. You have not changed much since I saw you last. You must be quite fond of this one... may I see more?” The question made Anne's breath hitch as she listened. The Queen has asked with so casual a tone, as though Anne were nothing more than a pretty bobble or object to be inspected. The feeling of being so blatantly objectified made her flush, but she did not find herself angry or upset by the situation. Instead, a swell of pride rushed through her, knowing the glory she was bringing to her Master. He would never in a million years _share_ her, this she knew. But _display_ her? _Oh, yes._  
  
“Of course. Antoinette, stand up.” She felt a tug at her collar, but it was unnecessary. She responded to his command at once, rising to her feet in a fluid motion. Under the gaze of all in the room, she felt her heart begin to beat rapidly, and she made certain her movements were as slowed and graceful as she could manage. Loki turned her with a firm grip on her midsection to face him, and she let herself be moved like a doll. Her body had begun to shake, and she kept her eyes firmly on the ground beneath her to avoid seeing the stares from everyone that were on her now.  
  
“Good girl... come here. Straddle my leg.” Her blush deepened as she moved to do as she had been told. His legs were spread in his usual splay of comfort, and as she moved to hitch her legs around his knee she felt the hard leather beneath her grind into her. Biting her lip to stifle a sudden moan of lust, she came to sit as instructed, straddling his leg, putting her hands on her own knees for balance. She swelled with pride as she saw him smile, his affectionate gaze calming her nerves and making her more at ease.  
  
“Take off your top.” The command came, and she had been half expecting it. At once she moved her hands to the clasps that held the gold cups together, unhooking it from the front and letting her breasts bound into view. She burned as she felt the eyes of the Queen roaming over her figure, inspecting her like she was a thing, but she did not even think of protesting her Masters orders. The metal cups, linked together with gold chains in place of sleeves was lowered slowly to the ground so it would not clatter, and then she sat up straight. Shoulders back, chest out. She knew she was here to be showed off, so she showed herself off, though her mind was reeling with insecurities. Was she was pretty as the other slave girls? Surely the Queen wouldn't be impressed, when she herself possessed some of the most breathtaking feminine beauty Anne had ever witnessed.  
  
“My how she _blushes!_ Surely she is not so inexperienced?” Anne heard Loki's chuckle as he reached out to grasp her breasts. A tug at her nipples had her back arching, and she could not stop a moan this time as her clit felt the firmness of the leather beneath it, pressure building within her. She was forced by his ministrations to rock where she sat, and it stimulated her already sensitive womanhood, hitting the ring that rested between her legs.  
  
“Oh, she is _very_ experienced” Loki assured the Queen as he toyed with her. “But no matter how many things I put her through, she never quite losses the shy bashfulness of a virgin. And I must admit I find _that_ rather appealing as well.” He spoke to the Queen with an almost absentminded air before he released Anne's breasts and sat back against the cushions, throwing his hands behind his head. As he lounged he let his salacious gaze trail across her breasts, down her middle and to the curve of her legs and ass.  
  
“Why don't you give the Queen a show, pet. I'm sure she would _love_ to see _just how experienced you are_...” As he spoke Anne felt her desire rise within her even more. The Queen's eye was very firmly trained on her now, curiosity and interest dancing on her face as she continued to peer at her as though she were an interesting and rare painting. A beautiful object for the purpose of entertainment.  
“Rut against my leg.”  
  
She heard his command, and felt a rush of excited energy, her hips beginning to move before she even knew what was happening. His firm leg beneath her felt incredible, rubbing against her clit and making her ache with desire. She could feel the stares on her now, and she was glad for the command to keep her eyes averted, because as she flushed with further embarrassment, she was not sure she could have met the eyes of anyone if she had wanted to. She felt so bare and so vulnerable, letting her sexual passions be displayed for all to see at her Masters command, and it was a heady rush that made the room seem to spin around her.  
  
“She certainly is an obedient little thing. You have her very well trained.” The remark made Loki smile and Anne moan in thanks. She felt Loki shift beneath her, angling his knee so that it would press against her clit more from the front, and she gasped aloud at the sudden stimulation.  
“The Queen has given you a compliment, pet. Be polite and thank her.” As she braced herself against him, rutting her hips back and forth and feeling horribly exposed, she parted her lips to give a nervous answer.  
“Th... _thank you._. Your Maje..sty...” The words were muttered through gasps of pleasure as she moved against him. She hoped she had said them well, that she hadn't accidentally given some kind of offence. The Queen's appreciative laughter calmed her fears, but only heightened her sense of shame and humiliation at what she was displaying of herself.  
  
She was breathless as she moved, rutting back and forth against him. She could smell him now, the leather and the musk of his own arousal mingled with the wetness coming from herself. She could feel herself slickening with desire, certain she was going to leave a wet spot on his leg. Everything seemed to close around her as her pleasure mounted, her pants and moans coming in faster as her movements picked up their pace.  
  
“She seems to be enjoying herself. Will she _cum,_ do you think?” The Queens interest was rapt, her appreciation for beauty and discipline well engaged at the sight of a rare Midgardian slave rutting against her Master's leg.  
“Not without my permission she wont, _isn't that right_ pet?” As she moved she nodded her head, groaning as she felt him beneath her.  
“I only cum when you desire it Master.” She managed to speak, the words filling her with a sense of pride and accomplishment as she rutted against him, her hands clutching at him in desperation. The room was filled with the sound of her breathless moans now, and everyone was watching her. Loki, the Queen of Vanaheim, the nobles and the advisers, even the other slaves. All of their eyes were on her. She felt very small, exposed, but also celebrated and validated.  
  
“Very polite manors. Oh _do_ let her cum, I'd _love_ to see what she looks like in ecstasy.” The Queen's words only drove her closer to the brink, but she knew that she could not let herself tumble over into pleasure without a command from her Master. She held herself on the precipice, rocking her hips with abandon, no longer caring what she looked like, loosing herself to the sensations and the stares.  
  
Loki watched her for a few more moments, watched her abandon all sense of decorum and propriety as she rutted against him for his pleasure. Watched with lust darkened eyes as her breasts swayed up and down as she moved, and felt himself growing stiff as the smell of her arousal hit his nostrils. A lazy smile was on his face as he observed her pleasure and her obedience, before he gave a short nod to the Queen, as though finally coming to a decision.  
“Well let's not disappoint the Queen, pet. Why don't you cum for us. You know what a _beautiful_ show it is.”  
She moaned and rocked, sliding her pussy across his leg now, wet and slick with desire. Her clit was aching and her body craved that release, the sharp sensations each time she grinded down on him making her whimper.  
“Come on... cum _now_ , pet.” His command drove her over the edge, and her body stiffened. She arched backwards and thrusted her hips with wild abandon against him, grinding and humping his leg through her climax like a dog in heat. Her screams and whimpers filled the room, as everyone watched her with bated breath before she finally came down off of the high, panting and groaning as she came to rest against him.  
  
He smiled wide and nodded as he watched her finish, the Queen laughing in delight as the show came to a close, her body doubling over itself in exhaustion, ever previously taught muscle relaxing.  
“Ahhh that was a show _indeed._ You have certainly good taste, Loki. I can see why you brought her along... _showing off,_ much?” Her voice was teasing and light as he directed Anne up off of his lap. He lead her by the chain to return to her knees, moving her towards the wet spot left on his leg.  
“You've made a mess... you know what I expect, pet.” Without a thought, her tongue darted out to clean his pants, the sweet taste of leather mixed with her own juices hitting her senses. The Queen seemed to moan aloud as she watched her tongue work against the fabric, lapping up anything that might have been left.  
  
At that moment, food began to arrive, the blond girl from before coming around with trays of fruits and cheeses to offer to him. Meats and breads were set upon the table, and drinks were poured. But while the blond girl was just as bubbly and flirtatious as before, her eyes lingered on Anne with curiosity. Anne was paying the commotion around her no mind, her orders unchanged. She continued to lick and kiss at her Master's thigh, cleaning him with her tongue and lips. When he was satisfied with her job, he pulled her in between his legs to rest her face up against his crotch, and she couldn't help but groan aloud as she felt his hardness straining against the leather pants.  
  
She knew what was expected of her, and she nuzzled her face into it, lavishing attention and adoration upon him. If he wanted more, she knew, he would command more. For now all that he had allowed was worship, so worship she gave.  
  
“Now then....” The Queen sighed as she sat back, a male slave dressed in nothing but jewelry from head to toe bringing her a plate of fruits, bowing his head as he offered them up to her. He had tan skin, and shot cropped hair. He was muscular, but there was a feminine grace given him by the jewels that draped across his flesh, including a kind of golden cage housing his cock. She reached out to help herself from the plate, the man kneeling with the tray raised in his hands.  
“You came here to discuss diplomatic relations. And to regale me with the tale of _Prince Loki of Asgard's_ ascent to the throne of not one, but _three_ realms. Lesser realms though they be... its rather impressive.”  
  
Loki smiled as he ate a piece of fruit, nodding along to the Queen's words. Anne was lost in the smell and the feel of his hardness on her cheek, performing as his own perfect little slut. On some level, she understood that her being here was a political move, meant to impress and dazzle the Queen. She only hoped she was worthy to be used for such purposes.  
“Yes, of course...” Loki began, waving a hand as though the question of his claim to Kingship were of trivial importance. “I'm afraid you might find the question of my conquest of those realms rather dull. The Ice Giants of Jotunheim fell to me by blood. The Council of Alfheim were cowards who surrendered rather than subject their realm to war. Midgard, was, ironically, the most challenging of all. _This one_ was of great service there.” He ran his hand through her hair then, and Anne let out a moan of contentment as she felt him press her against his erection.  
  
“But, My Queen, I believe the topic that will be of greater interest to you is the subject of _Nidavellir_.” He let the word hang between them as he passed a piece of fruit in front of Anne's lips. Anne's mouth opened to take the offered morsel, the flavor stunning her as she accepted it. It was unlike anything she had yet tasted, a tangy and yet oddly sweet flavor that filled her whole mouth and made her tongue tingle.  
  
“Nidavellir? Don't tell me that you intend to take the realm of the dwarves as well, Loki. You have played around with the lesser, more backwater realms, and I have not batted an eye at your actions. Nor, I should mention, has _Asgard_... but Nidavellir we count as strong friends and allies.” Her voice was not angry, but it did carry a weight of caution in her tone. It did not go unnoticed, though Loki's manor were all ease and casual friendliness. He passed another piece of fruit to Anne as he seemed to contemplate her words.  
  
“You may still be so.” He raised his eyes to meet hers directly, his gaze hard and difficult to read, starkly contrasting his easy smile. “I _do_ intend to take Nidavellir... it has resources I need most acutely, and the dwarves are good soldiers and craftsmen. When I am King of Nidavellir, if you do not oppose me, Vanaheim and Nidavellir will still remain on exceedingly good political terms. Indeed, I will see trade flourish as never before.”

The Queen tilted her head as she considered his rather brazen assertion.  
“I assume this has something to do with your cutting ties with Asgard?” Her eyes seemed to bore into him, probing deep to find the heart of the current political climate. She had to tread lightly, or risk ending up on the wrong side of a war that might span more than she was willing to take on. Loki made no effort to hide his mind from her, allowing a gracefully sheepish smile to spread upon his lips. He shrugged off the question with a wave of his hand.  
  
“You are perceptive as ever, Queen Asta. Asgard is indeed my final goal, and Nidavellir a mere stepping stone to attain it. Help me win Nidavellir, and I will see to it that when I finally take the throne of Asgard from Odin, that Vanaheim is well compensated for its aid. I really do _not_ want relations with Vanaheim to go... _sour_. I would prefer things were kept _mutually beneficial_.” Those words gave the Queen pause, and she watched him intently as she reached for the food on the table before them. Anne noticed that the others in the room had gone back to their own conversations, cavorting with the slaves and generally paying no mind to the political storm that was possibly brewing between the two monarchs.  
  
“Out of curiosity, why have you approached _me_ with this offer, and not King Eric? Is Nidavellir so _very_ appealing a realm that you seek it as your next conquest, and not mine? Or perhaps you think it will be easier to fell. _Come now_ , Odinson. _Tell me your mind_.” Her voice lilted and deepened as her eyes took him in, ever vigilant for his every reaction. To Anne is seemed as though she were wielding her words as a weapon, and she realized that this was Loki's specialty as well.  
  
His smile deepened as though he she finally got through to the heart of the matter, nodding in appreciation for the woman's perceptiveness. “You speak well, and you see much. Nidavellir is at a crossroads with Asgard. Due to the amount of trade between the realms, it is the logical choice for conquest. However, it is not the only factor that made me choose you as a potential ally, My Queen. I have great respect for your leadership and wisdom with the vanir. You would make a much more formidable enemy than would King Eric of the dwarves, and as such would make a much more useful ally. _But I warn you._..” his voice took on a deeper cadence as he spoke, narrowing his eyes to deliver his ultimatum “I _will_ take Nidavellir with, _or without_ , your aid, and if Vanaheim refuses me their assistance, you had best not underestimate my ire.”  
  
The two of them peered into each others eyes for what seemed like an eternity, a standoff between cosmic leaders, with their realms hanging in the balance. The slaves immediately in their vicinity had all frozen in place, watching their Queen as she faced off against the foreign King. Finally, when the silence seemed almost deafening, the Queen leaned back and laughed, breaking the tension that had been apparent between them.  
  
“Loki! _Dearest._ You always _were_ more _interesting_ than that oaf of a brother of yours, I'll give you that.” Wiping a tear from her eye she grinned at him. “I am in a position of political _alliance_ with the dwarves. Surely you know that means that I cannot simply aid you in attacking them, unprovoked?”  
  
At that Loki's smile became as menacing as ever, and he leaned forward towards her.  
“And what if I were to give you good reason that King Eric is unfit for the throne, that the dwarves would be better off under my rule, and that you have every reason in all the realms to uphold my claim?” His expression looked like one who had an obvious ace up his sleeve, eager to reveal it at long last. The Queen quirked a brow in his direction, narrowing her eyes in thought.  
  
“I'm listening...”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was hours later before Loki was show to the rooms reserved for honored guests. Anne in tow at his side, he had a grin upon his face like the cat that got the cream. Diplomatic discussions had gone better than he could possibly have hoped, his plans settling into place with ease. As the servant showed them into their room, he tilted his head and gestured in dismissal. “Thank you, that will be all.”  
The servant bowed in deference and exited, leaving the visiting King and his pet in peace. “Now...” He smiled down upon Anne, who stood with meek stature next to him, awaiting his word. “.... you were _lovely_. I cannot tell you how proud I am of you. Was it difficult for you?”  
  
Anne shook her head quickly, raising her gaze to meet his for the first time since they had arrived. The smile she found was soft and affectionate, and she drank it in like fresh water for a parched throat. “No Master. I am pleased to be of service to you however I can... however you wish.” The experience had been strange, and new, but not unpleasant. She had loved to be shown off, because it meant that he deemed her _worth_ showing off. Because for some reason, showing her off improved his standing with the most amazingly beautiful woman she had ever laid eyes on, and that was a marvel in itself.  
  
“Good.” He smiled and took her by the hand, leading her to the bed. “I believe you gave the Queen quite the show... she certainly seemed to admire my most _prized possession_. You are a jewel to me, pet. Never doubt it.”  
  
She smiled and nodded, letting him lead her as he would. How could she possibly?

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> Please also come and [say hi on Tumblr!](http://firstorder-pixie.tumblr.com) I'd love to chat ;)


	6. May I Have This Dance?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Anne relax in their rooms after their audience with the Queen of Vanaheim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a fluff chapter! Ahhhh it's been a while! It was very fun to write some romance and playful shenanigans.
> 
> I also want to make a note here, Loki and Anne have a brief discussion about power balances within sex that, as an addendum, are only how _they_ see things. I often find myself with a disconnect with a lot of fanfics and erotica due to how sexually aggressive the girl is when my own sexuality is so very passive, which is a huge part of why I've crafted Anne like I have. I'm not a service oriented sub, I like to be lead and guided and dependent on my partner, and trying to act slutty and seductive and coy isn't really my jam. So it isn't Anne's jam either. THAT SAID, I worry that their conversation comes off as too demeaning towards women who ARE like that, especially considering that Loki says "Those girls are putting on an act", so I wanted to clarify that by "those girls" he is referring to the slaves of Vanaheim, and not to all women who are more active and enthusiastic in sex. It just so happens that _Loki_ prefers passive women, but the conversation is meant as a way to try to suss out the differences between the two approaches to sexuality, not to shame those that are a certain way. THIS IS NOT MEANT TO BE A "NOT LIKE THE OTHER GIRLS" BIT.

Loki's fingers were running through her hair as she sat by him, head in his lap. The guest room he had been given was elaborate and breathtaking, the ceiling high above them. Her eyes followed the beautiful architecture and carvings that adorned every available surface. At times it made her dizzy. But more than this exotic and new location, she enjoyed just having her head nestled in his lap.

She had been nervous at first when he commanded her to display herself so openly in front of the Queen of Vanaheim. Though whispered words of lust describing what it might be like to be so displayed and shown off in her most intimate moments had often passed his lips during their times of lovemaking, she had not known for certain how she would react to the actual experience. It had scared her to see the eyes of another roaming her flesh in the heat of her pleasure, taking in what her face looked like contorted in agonized bliss. But she was surprised by just how easy it was to become lost to the moment, filled with pride that she was considered such a beautiful thing to be admired so. There was still, however, a nagging doubt that lingered in her mind.

“Master...” She began, a nervous tremble in her voice. He shifted where he sat and turned his gaze upon her, and she felt a flush rise upon her cheeks. “Yes, my pet?”  
Her lip was caught between her teeth as she contemplated what to ask him. The sight of the other slaves had unnerved her, had made her feel inadequate. But he had trained her himself... and he did not seem to find any fault with her behavior.  
  
“I... Do you... Do you want me to be more like those girls?” She found herself blurting out the question, closing her eyes to distance herself from the sound of her own voice. “I.. I just... I'm not..”  
She wrestled with trying to form the words to what she was feeling. She was not like the other slaves here. She lacked the confidence to play coy and seductive. She did not wield her sexuality like a tool as they did, did not bat her eyelashes or give her Master bedroom eyes to lure him to playing with her. Instead she _blushed_. She closed her eyes. She wallowed in embarrassed timidity. And if she wanted to play, she _begged_ him for it. But these slaves did the work. They serviced their Masters without thought, took the initiative themselves.

“I'm not... an _active participant_ like they are Master.” It was true. She was, in a word, quite _passive_. “They all seemed so... _eager._ Should... Should I be more like that?” She was certainly eager for his attentions, but it didn't manifest in the same sort of eager actions. But perhaps she could change...  
  
“Nonsense.” His voice was light as he chuckled, leaning over her to place a kiss on her forehead.   
“ _Those_ girls are putting on an _act_. They have been trained from their early childhood in the arts of sensuality and seduction. _You_ , I do not want to _act_. I want you to _be_. The things I do to you cut deep, past everything that is superfluous, right down to your very _core._ That is why the things I do to you leave you open, vulnerable and _afraid,_ which is how _I like you best._ I do not need you to simper and be.... an _active participant,_ as you put it. I do not need you to be _eager._ I need you to _let go_ , and let me open you up to your most raw and intimate. To turn you into _nothing_ but a bitch in heat, _desperate_ for my touch. To let me _break_ you.”

He took a deep breath and ran his hand through her hair again, ruffling it and making a mess of her silken locks. 

“I want you to focus not on service, but on _obedience_. Obedience will often _encompass_ service, but the core concept should not be what you can do for me, but rather wanting to _please_ me with your subjugation, in whatever form I want it to take. I do not enjoy women who try to seduce and coerce. I like you _shy and bashful_ in my presence. I _love_ that every time I look upon you naked, you blush as though no one has ever seen you thus before. That when I touch you, you _gasp_ as though discovering the sensation for the first time. That you wait for permission before you ever dare to touch me in turn. That at times I have you _begging_ for the _permission_ to serve me. I like that your expression of sexuality is so very _passive_ that I can do whatever I want to you, like a beautiful toy. No, pet. I do not want you to be seductive and eager like those other slaves.

You saw the Queen's reaction. Your _innocence_ is a special kind of beauty. Unmarred by expectation, you experience sex with a whole hearted honesty that is refreshing to me. And it is lovely.”  
She blushed in embarrassment, both for how small and exposed he made her feel and also for the shame of having doubted herself. Did he not shower her with praise and affection every day? How could she doubt that he wanted her?  
  
“And in fact...” he continued, a smile growing upon his lips as he looked her over. “I believe you really quite impressed the Queen with your little display of wantonness. How shall I reward you?” His voice has taken on a mischievous cadence, his eyes twinkling with light as she peered up at him from where she knelt. “Re...reward me, Master?”  
  
“Yes of course. You've been a very, _very_ good girl for me. What I asked of you was new to you, a form of sexuality that I have spoken to you of many times but never actually put you through before. And you rose to the occasion beautifully, and without question. I believe that merits some form of reward. Come, what would you ask of me?”  
  
She frowned as she thought it over. _What would she ask of him...?_ She didn't quite see what she had done as all that worthy of praise. She had only obeyed his command, as was expected of her. Her eyes closed in quiet contemplation before her lips spread in a slow smile, looking up at him with wide eyes. “I want neer'al!” she declared, her taste buds watering at the mere mention of it on her lips.

The Alfheim specialty had fast become a favorite, and one she was not allowed often due to its potency to humans. She knew that he might have been expecting her to request some kind of sexual pleasure...  for his practically magical tongue, or to be ravished by clones. _But..._ she grinned wider. Sex was not uncommon, and it was _never_ unsatisfying, no matter _what_ he chose to do to her, so sexual favors were hardly needed. It was rare, however, that he would declare outright she could have anything she wanted, and neer'al was not something she got all too often.

And, she reasoned with a hint of mischief in her eyes to match his own, _it might frustrate him_. Well, it wasn't as though he couldn't make her beg for sex whenever he wanted. Let her beat him at his own game.  
  
The reaction upon his face did not disappoint her. His eyes widened in surprise as he heard the request tumble from her lips, his own pressing together in what looked remarkably like a pout.

“Neer'al... I offer you anything you want, and you want _elven pudding?_ ”  
She nodded emphatically, a grin gracing her features to mirror his own most mischievous expressions.  
“Yes, _please_ Master! It's my _favorite!_ ”

He frowned, a mock expression of contemplation dancing across his face, but she could tell he was holding back from laughing.  
“Neer'al is an _Alfheim_ dish, pet. Have you forgotten that we are in Vanaheim? I don't even know if they have any.” His voice had taken on the telltale signs of playfulness, and she took it as encouragement to keep the game going. She pressed her lips together in a pout, her eyes going wide with shocked disappointment.

“Then... then I _can't_ have any... Master?” Her voice trembled as she spoke, giving him the best puppy dog eyes that she could muster. It felt good to jest with him, to see the crinkles at the corners of his eyes as he held back from grinning at her antics. 

“Weeelll...” He said with an over acted sigh, rolling his eyes off to the side to appear to be thinking it over with great care. “I suppose they _might_ have some... but are you certain there isn't anything _else_ you want instead?”

She thought his eyes looked the most beautiful when they twinkled in play like that. He was maintaining an obviously false expression of mock seriousness, and she played along, nodding again to confirm her choice. “Pleeeassee Master!”  
  
Then his face broke into a grin, unrestrained and honest as he nodded to her, moving to set her aside as he got to his feet. “Whatever my little pet wants, she shall have.” He made a flourish with his arm, taking a gallant bow before moved to the door. She sat with a dreamy smile on her face as she watched him summon the servant who stood outside their door in case the visiting royal might need anything.

“Boy!” He called, and the servant was immediately standing before him, bowing low to the ground before straightening again. “Yes, your Majesty? How may I be of service to your Lordship?” Anne thought the boy sounded quite young, his eyes bright and earnest.   
“My pet would like some neer'al, please have the kitchens send some immediately. Sparkling mead as well.”

The boy bowed low again in acknowledgement, nodding his head as he spoke again. “Of course your Majesty. I will see to it at once.” He inclined his head in thanks towards the servant before closing the door again, turning to her with his hands outspread.

“I'm afraid they don't have any, my dear.” His brow furrowed in sorrow, as though he were indeed absolutely heartbroken for her. She grinned wider, laughing as she shook her head, light dancing in her eyes.

“That's not true, I heard him!” She giggled as he returned to her side, moving to make way for him as he sat himself down again, drawing her head back into his lap.   
“Well aren't you a clever one... Really though, that is _all_ you want? You don't want some kind of _delicious pleasure_ that will make your head spin and your ass _ache for days?_ ” He grinned a wicked grin as he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. She blushed and shook her head, stubbornly refusing to give in to his teasing.

“You do that all the time anyways Master! I hardly have to request it.” She remarked with a smile. “My head _always_ spins and my ass _always_ aches already!” In truth, she could still feel the remnants of the last time he had taken a crop to her ass, leaving beautiful marks along her skin. Marks that she cherished as perfect and loving memories.

He chuckled and nodded in acquiescence to the comment, ruffling her hair as he shifted from where he sat. “I suppose you have me there. Fine, very well. I don't remember the last time we did _this_.” He stood up to his feet, grasping her hands and pulling her to her feet along with him. She watched him with some curiosity as he moved, pulling her into an embrace before she heard music begin to fill the room.

It was not a style of music she had ever heard before, a lilting sort of melody that filled her senses with a kind of excited longing. As he swept her up into his arms, hands clasping hers, she heard the music begin to rise and swell. It was a jaunty little song that made her want to move and twirl, and as her eyes flitted about the room, she realized that she she could _see_ the music as well.

The room was filled with his power, pulses of green light throbbing in time with the tune that he had spun. It cascaded in streams from his person, circling around them and creating a tiny little cocoon of sound and light. He twirled her in his arms, and she found herself spinning around, coming close to him before he had them turning in time with the music. As she moved her feet to match his, she looked up at him with wide eyes.  
  
“Do you like it?” He asked softly, affectionate eyes taking her in as they made slow and then fast circles around the room. She nodded as she felt her face burn with a timid flush. “Yes... it's beautiful Master... what is it?” Her words were breathed with a measure of awe.  
_I'm dancing... I'm dancing with Loki. Loki, the god of chaos, the King and Conqueror of the Realms... I'm dancing with him._  
  
She had a moment of wonder crash down around her. She had belonged to him for so long now... but sometimes it hit her again how incredible that was.   
“It is an Asgardian song.” His voice answered her, shaking her out of her reverie as she felt his hands spin her around before drawing her close to him once more. “There is an Asgardian dance that goes with it, but I thought you might be more familiar with this.” The way their bodies moved across the floor, feet moving them in circles and mirroring each other, Loki leading her in dips and twirls was very much familiar to her, even if she had never been particularly practiced at it.

She nodded as the music turned to a slower segment of the song, felt his hands circle her waist and pull her close until her body was pressed up against his. It was incredible, how even after she had become accustomed to being so intimate with him, something like this could feel at once more beautiful and electrifying than all the sex in the world. As she closed her eyes and breathed in his scent a shy smile graced her features. She leaned forwards as they swayed together, resting her cheek upon his chest.

“Will you teach me the Asgardian dance some day Master?” She inquired, and his lips turned into a grin where they were, pressed against her hair. “Of course pet... I will teach you _so many things_ in the centuries ahead of us. You have no idea how many more things are in store.”

The music hit a swell, the melody beginning to leap in a joyous rhapsody, and his movements began to quicken to match it. She took in a sharp breath as her feet followed along, stepping where he lead and twirling as he went. Her breathing was heavy now as she felt the rush of motion around her, the lights from the spell growing brighter as the music grew louder. It was a heady mixture, making her heart race and her blood pump as they careened about, a graceful and exciting interlude.

“What's all of this for...” She managed to ask, gazing at him with a growing kind of longing. He grinned, his eyes filled with mirth and laughter. She thought he looked more relaxed than she had seen him in a long time, indulging in this simple moment of pure fun. “Why, my dear....” he paused to give her a spin, twirling her around before dipping her low to the ground. As she trusted herself to his strong arms she saw him smiling openly into her eyes, and she could not imagine feeling more content than in this moment here.

“We're celebrating.” In an instant she was back on her feet, the music pulsing around them in a chorus.  
“Today went far better than I had hoped... My plans are falling into place with perfection, and you are here to witness it. What could possibly warrant more celebration than that?”

She considered his words, a slight frown marring her brow as she stepped in time with him, her cheeks red and her breathing short from the exertion. “Isn't it a little early to celebrate?” The question did not give him pause, he only smiled a mysterious smile as he listened to her words. “I mean... Couldn't something go wrong still?”  
  
“Something can _always_ go wrong, my dear. All the more reason to take what moments of mirth we may.” As he spoke there was a knock on the door, and he gave her a wink, slowing their dance until they were standing still, breathing each other in. The music still thrilled throughout the room as he left her side, his hand lingering in hers for just a moment as he went to answer the door.

“Here are the things you requested, your Majesty.” A young servant girl, dressed in plain clothes, had her head bowed, a tray in her arms, extended towards him. “If it pleases you, I can wait upon your Lordship.” Anne could see a smile tug at the corners of Loki's mouth as he reached out to take the tray from her.

“Thank you, that will not be necessary.” The girl gave him a small smile, nodding as she bowed once more. “Please do not hesitate to send word if you require anything else.” Then with a curtsy she was gone, the door closing as she turned back down the hallway. As Loki turned into the room, the tray laden with wine and a bowl of her favorite treat, she positioned herself by the small table on the ground. On her knees, back straightened, hands clasped behind her. It was the standard way they took their meals now, and as he set the tray on the table she could not help nuzzling close to him.

“Look at you...” he mused as he came around to sit beside her, placing a hand in her hair. “Such a beautiful and obedient little pet. How could you possibly worry that I could want any other woman. None of them hold a candle to you.” He ran his fingers through her hair before reaching for the tray. She was aware of the sound of something popping before he poured out a glass of sweet smelling liquid.

His perfect lips took a sip of the sparkling gold wine, a smile permanently etched on his features before he lowered the cup. As she felt it pressed against her lips she tilted her head back, allowing him to pour some of the aromatic drink into her mouth. It tasted like honey, and it tingled on her tongue as she swallowed, closing her eyes to savor it.

“To Vanaheim.” He said with a cheeky grin. She was certain he had put some mischief in play that she had not been able to follow that day. “And to the Realms.” Then he set aside the glass, reaching for the pudding. Her heart leapt and she felt a grin spread across her face.  
“To the Realms!” She repeated as she anticipated the delicious treat.  
  
“Now now.” His tone was strict, but still playful. “Not too much. You know what it does to your head.”  
She pouted again, though it was for show. She knew there were always stipulations on how much of the heady stuff she was allowed to have.  
  
“Yes Master.” Came the dutiful response as he offered the spoon to her lips.  
This moment was _bliss._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> Please also come and [say hi on Tumblr!](http://firstorder-pixie.tumblr.com) I'd love to chat ;)


	7. Earths Mightiest Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, what are the Avengers up to on Earth, and how are their plans for taking on Loki's global regime going??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm getting more and more comfortable with writing action scenes! This was a difficult chapter to write though, because I needed to get through a lot of information about what's been going on on Earth now that Loki's been off gallivanting around the Realms. PLEASE let me know what you think of where the story is going!

“Watch out on your left, Cap, incoming!”  
Tony Stark's voice blared through his headset. He whirled around just in time to duck out of the way of a volley of ice, flung in sequence from the hands of his opponents. He was surrounded on all sides, Ice Giants hedging him in and baiting his movements.  
  
“Roger that. Any word how they knew we'd be here?”  
The mission had been a stealth mission, and they hadn't expected combat... or, at the very least, that had been the hope. Still, it never hurt to be prepared, and it wasn't as though they weren't a well known group to Loki's regime. Rogers panted from the strain of the battle, eyeing up the closest opponent with a vicious glare. Raising his shield, he prepared to barrel into him, ducking his head as he readied his stance.  
  
“No idea... Though Loki's spies have proven thus far to be rather... _talented._ ” A young, female voice came through the coms. Wanda was one of the leaders of the Resistance, and the Avenger's primary aide in their guerrilla tactics. Her voice was on edge, her accent coming through in bitter, teeth gritted tones. “I'd love to know how their getting their information.”  
  
Speculation would have to wait. As he slammed into the giant before him, careful not to touch the creatures skin, he hefted his arm, crashing the edge of his shield against his foes jaw. There was a sickening crunch as the giant let out a shriek of pain, careening backwards and clutching at the freshly bleeding wound. Just as he was whirling around to respond to an incoming blow from a thrown fist, an arrow whizzed past his face, catching the next giant in the eye. The giant howled with pain induced rage. Steve stood for a moment breathing deeply, his hand raised to wipe a drop of blood that was dripping into his eyes, smearing it across his forehead in the process.  
  
“Thanks, Clint.” He turned briefly to salute his comrade, perched on a ledge high above the action. He didn't have much time to think before the giants were on him again. They were breathing heavily from the pain and exertion as well, but they were not out of the game yet, and they had the advantage not only size and brute strength, but numbers.  
  
The flying form of Iron Man was careening through the air, right in the thick of the chaos. Rogers could see the blasts from his hands as he was pursued by men on air scooters, technology courtesy of the late Doctor Doom. Wanda was giving support from the ground, wisps of red magic causing discord amongst the enemy ranks, turning giant upon giant. Ice was flying everywhere, coating the ground and the sides of the building nearby.  
  
But it didn't matter. They were the distraction. They only needed to stall long enough for Natasha to get out of the complex, data chip in hand, and hopefully a good amount of sabotage in her wake.  
“Romanoff, how are you doing in there?” Tony's voice was out of breath as he flew about, making a sharp turn to dodge a blast from an enemy flyer.  
_“I'm a little busy right now.”_ Came the answering reply, the sounds of struggle and grunting men coming from her communication as she switched it on. She had not avoided excitement herself, it seemed.  
  
“Yeah, well we've been keeping pretty busy ourselves...” Steve managed to get out through clenched teeth as he turned to smash his shield into the launched fist of a giant, sending him skidding backwards, braced by his legs. They were strong... much stronger than human opponents, and bigger too. But he was faster than then. He moved to duck between the legs of the one in front of him, letting the fist of the other crash into it's midsection. There were roars of rage and another blast of ice crawled its way from their outstretched arms. It was all he could do to roll out of the way in time.  
  
“Oh, _I'm sorry._ I didn't realize how badly you boys needed a _babysitter._ ” The quip was flung with a half hearted tone, her voice tired and panting. The lack of humour only drove home the trepidatious nature of their situation. The sounds of feet scuffling against the ground, bodies colliding against each other and curse words being uttered in derisive frustration were all too audible through the comm systems. After a few moments there was a loud THUD as a body hit the ground without a scream, and for a brief second the Avengers feared the worse. Then her voice came on again, breathless, if a little more relaxed. “I'll try to finish up here. I've got the files.”  
  
Steve's heart leapt with relief, though he didn't have a moment to dwell on it. He quickly made a falling roll as another blast of ice came at him. He needed to get the giants off his back, and soon. With a primal cry of rage and fury he charged at the first one, shield first, and slammed him to the ground. Another arrow from Clint came his way, piercing through the shoulder of the other enemy. This arrow beeped with insistance for a few moments, and the Captain's eyes went wide as he realized what was about to occur. He jumped to fall clear of the blast just as the arrow exploded, getting himself out of the way in the nick of time.  
  
“Geeze... thanks again. And Natasha, no hurry or anything... take your time. It's not like we have anywhere to be.” He stood to his full height, surveying the battle around him. That blast from Clint had at least knocked the two giants he had been fighting out, though there were more charging towards him. _Never a moments rest..._  
  
“Steve, you should know better than to rush a lady.” Tony's voice rang through his ear, and the Captain looked up to see a flying scooter crash and burn, killing the driver. There were explosions all around him, and for a moment he felt like he were in the eye of the storm, the chaos raging around him but not touching him. That moment was short lived however as he had to make a quick turn to duck under the blow from another giant, spinning around to catch him in the back with his shield.  
  
“Yeah, well, retreat sounds pretty good right now. We're out numbered, and it doesn't look like that's about to change.” The sound of pain filled guttural cries filled the coms as a bolt of ice caught him unawares, striking him in the arm and tearing apart suit and flesh alike. He winced as he drove his shield upwards to catch the giant, gritting his teeth against the pain. Blood poured from the wound as he tore the shard out of his skin. More giants were closing in, and the skies were being filled with enemy soldiers.  
  
“Alright, I've done all I can here. Let's get the fuck out.” The exasperated voice of the spy came in the nick of time, and Steve made one last movement to slam into the nearest foe, gaining just enough momentum to get out of the circle of giants that had hemmed him in.  
  
“Well, it's been a pleasure, but Mom's calling.” Stark's smart alec voice met his ears as he looked up to see one last blast exploding into an enemy flyer before Iron Man was moving to retreat, catching Clint by the shoulders as he passed. The red clad form of the young sorceress was coming towards him, motioning towards their route of retreat. “I'm your mother now, am I?”  
  
Black Widow was running at full speed, leaping and bounding through the enemy lines, leaving more than a few bodies in her wake. He felt a smirk pull at his lips. He would not want to be on that woman's bad side. Stark flew by overhead, shrugging his metal arms as he passed. “My therapists would probably say that I view all women as mother figures, so if you wouldn't mind taking up the position... Come to think of it, pre-made lunches would be _really_ handy.”  
  
The banter was forced, but it did him good to hear it. The mood was generally grim of late, and Tony Stark's insistent commitment to playful repartee was one of the only things that lightened it. Who knew that what one found obnoxious to a painful fault would be a breath of fresh air after the world had ended.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 _Ended_ might have been a bit dramatic. But the world had changed. They were no longer a group of heroes pitted against whatever threat might come against the Earth. The threat had already come, and the threat had won. Now they were the face of a small rebellion, a group of guerrilla fighters who didn't have a chance of winning. As they regrouped back in the bunkers, there was a grim atmosphere that clung about the heroes. Steve headed directly for the med-kit, wincing as he spread the heating salve across the ice wound. These had to be treated quickly, before frost bite set it.  
  
“Did we get the intel we needed?” The words were obscured as he bandaged his arm, pulling the gauze with his teeth. Everyone was out of breath and looking the worse for wear. Clint sidled up beside him to reach for the med-kit as well. Natasha sauntered in, holding a computer chip lightly between two fingers. “Yeah. This will be our ticket in. It contains all the plans and schematics Doom had been working on. It's not much in the grand scheme of things... but its a starting point.”  
  
Steve heard Tony sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair, the suit of armour receding off of his body into its small, compact and portable size. He had lost all of his suits, his lab, and everything when Loki had succeeded in his takeover. He was eager to start over, and easily had the most to gain by their plans. What they needed was a place to start. They couldn't make a counter take over of the entire planet... even with their unique talents, Loki had control of all of Earth. There would be some willing to defect to the Resistance, but not enough, and Loki had armies in reserve from at least two other Realms as well.  
  
They couldn't go to war against the King. But they could hopefully take a single country back from him, and perhaps grow their movement from there. There was one country that had the technology and magical properties that they needed in order to progress their cause, and from the intelligence they had gathered was possible to be infiltrated. It also came with a heavy dose of dramatic irony: Latveria.  
  
“I still don't like it.” Tony's voice had the cadence of childish petulance. “It's Doom's stuff. Plus the collaborative aid of Justin Hammer. It's going to be monumentally irritating working with the leftovers of those hacks.”  
Everyone ignored him. Truthfully he was excited at the chance to get his hands on some tech, castoffs of their enemies or not. Ever since Loki had taken out Doom, Latveria had been left more or less to it's own devices. Loki's people controlled everything, but the big man himself had been in and out of Realm, not paying it much attention. His attention was currently divided, which was his biggest weakness.

  
Steve finished tying the gauze around his arm, stepping away from the counter to give Clint some space. He leaned against the wall, his heart still beating hard in his chest from the exertion. The mission had originally been for Clint and Natasha. Get in to the enemy complex, get the intel, and sabotage whatever they could. It was a scientific building, not a military post, so the presence of ice giants was not anticipated. They had been ambushed and forced to call for backup. Still, any mission that everyone walked away from with their lives was a success in the Captain's books. As long as they could forcibly take Latveria, they had a hope of working their way through taking back the planet.  
  
“Does your intel show where Bruce is being held?” Tony had downed a glass of water, knocking it back like it was liquor and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Grime smudged his skin as he looked towards Natasha. She shook her head, a regretful expression on her face, her lips pursed into a thin line.  
“I haven't had a chance to look through it all before I swiped all I could, but I don't think so. Loki might have him with him off in other Realms for all we know. Just like Thor. The two of them are completely vanished from all records.”  
  
“You'd think Thor would have been able to escape by now...” Steve mused. “Out of all of us he's the only one physically stronger than his brother. How is Loki holding him?” The Hulk they knew had been tamed by a drug and magic concoction, but Thor... it was a mystery how Thor could be held so long against his wishes.  
  
The question was met with a resounding silence as everyone gave a collective shrug. Tony was the first one to break the silence, reaching for a towel on a nearby table, swapping out the now empty water bottle in his hand. “Well, I don't know about you guys but I need a shower. I'll get to looking at those schematics right away, find us a way into the Latverian capitol so we can take the country.” Steve nodded slowly, as though reluctant to be shaken out of his reverie into thinking strategically again.  
  
“We'll need to win over the Latverians. From the intel we've gathered they weren't exactly the biggest fans of their great leader Victor. But they've been tossed around from one evil dictator to another, and they may be hard to convince. I wish we had Bruce. He was good at talking to people.”  
  
There wasn't much more to add, just a silent recognition of his words as everyone processed the next steps in their mission to capture an entire country. It wasn't the sort of thing any of them had ever expected they would have to do, and it was only the first step to a much larger objective. As the group began to disperse, Wanda put her hand on Steve's shoulder.  
  
“Captain. I don't want to alarm you... but you should know that there is more to our present crisis than we know.” He frowned as he turned to look at her, meeting her youthful eyes with curiosity. The girl had natural arcane abilities, and he was more than ever a believer these days. “What do you mean?”  
“I'm not sure...” the heavily accented voice sighed before continuing. “...But there is a bigger threat than even Loki on the horizon. We will need to be ready.” Steve nodded, his eyes set in a determined grimace.  
  
“Then we had better get ready.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> Please also come and [say hi on Tumblr!](http://firstorder-pixie.tumblr.com) I'd love to chat ;)


	8. A Sore Subject

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Loki prepares for the coming invasion of Nidavelir and works to get his pieces all in place, Anne asks the most dangerous question of all: What are his plans for Thor?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! Things get a bit heated in this chapter! I want to make a disclaimer here: Loki is not a perfect person, and he does not behave his best in this chapter. I wanted to portray their first spat as a couple, and unfortunately nothing gets Loki more irritable and angry than the subject of his brother. So a little bit of Trigger Warning: domestic abuse here, but don't worry, next chapter should get a little fluffier :)

Anne sat in contented silence, her head resting against Loki's leg. The excursion to Vanaheim had been fun and exciting, but she was glad to be back in more familiar quarters now. Surrounded by things that belonged to her Master, and people who served him. His hand was resting on her head, fingers running through her loose hair, and she was glad for this moment to simply _be_. She had a book in her lap, studiously taking in the languages of the Arcane, learning bit by bit the ways of magic. Loki was also reading something... and it was nice, just sitting in a comfortable silence at his feet.  
  
A knock on the door made the pair of them look up from their books, though nothing in his demeanour changed to indicate that there was any anticipated trouble in this intrusion. His hand continued to stroke her head with warmth and affection as she heard him call out. “You may enter.”  
  
The sight of one of his personal elven spies came into view. Her brows furrowed as she tried to recall the boy's name, but it would not come to her. She closed her book and gingerly settled herself on her knees, looking out at the visitor with a more formal presentation. The elf, who always appeared so very serious to her, bowed low before the King, and then once again, though not quite so low, before her as well.  
  
“Apologies for this disturbance, my King, but I have received a message from the Lady Amora. Word from Asgard.” Anne's back stiffened at that name, but she said nothing. This was all political, she knew, alliances that he needed to have in place. Her own personal dislike of the woman had no bearing on how useful she was to him. Still, she could not help her muscles stiffening at the mention of her. She felt Loki's hand grasp her a little firmer, a gentle squeeze to remind her he was there. She relaxed.  
  
“ _Excellent_. Let's hear it.” The King leaned forward in his seat, awaiting the news. She looked up to see a mischievous grin on his face as he watched the spy, resting his chin on his knuckles. The way he lounged in his throne made it seem as though he were made for it, created for the sole purpose of ruling over the millions beneath him. He wore the throne like it was just one more thing in the universe that had been designed just for him.  
  
“Amora sends word... Thor has been welcomed back into Asgard, as per your bidding. He is being hailed a hero of the Realms for having escaped your clutches... The Lady Amora is hiding herself as his consort, going under the name of Lady Leibera. Thor has been able to convince Asgard that it would not be prudent at this time to go to war against your Realms, and has a large segment of the population convinced you are a benevolent and just ruler.”  
  
Loki nodded as he listened, his grin growing ever wider. Everything seemed to be going as planned. Anne knew that it was crucial to his machinations that Thor side with him before the Asgardian court... but there was a nagging feeling at the back of her mind that this was not the best way to go about it. Something about the entire plot unsettled her, and she found herself growing more and more uncomfortable as he and the spy continued to speak.  
  
“Everything is going according to plan, then. Asgard will keep out of my way until I am ready to deal with it directly.” Anne felt his fingers make gentle circles along her skin, and she found herself nuzzling into his touch with a happy sigh. The spy shifted slightly before speaking again.  
  
“There is... one more thing, My King.” Loki frowned at that, gesturing to the elf to continue. She felt his body tense beside her. His plans were not foolproof, and even he knew that there was always the chance of complications. The elf nodded for a brief moment before he continued.  
  
“Amora also sends word that the Allfather has recently gone into the Odinsleep. Thor has been named Acting King of Asgard.” Loki's body relaxed as his mirthful smile returned at the news. Even Anne's heart leapt as she saw Loki stand to his feet, his hands clasped together. From where she knelt, she had the perfect view of her King as he extended his arms towards the boy.  
  
“That is incredible news! Really, couldn't have gone better if I had orchestrated it myself! Oh, but I suppose I did.” He clasped the boys shoulder with a friendly grip, clapping him on the back. “That is the best news you could possibly have delivered. As a reward, I _won't_ have you killed the next time you have _bad_ news to deliver.” The boy paled a little, a nervous smile twitching at the corners of his lips. For a brief moment the room was filled with an awkward kind of silence before the King's head was thrown back, laughter pealing from his lips.  
  
He took a moment, patting the boy's shoulders before speaking again. “I'm _kidding_. Go on, you're dismissed.” The elf nodded, flushed and a little nerve wracked, before he bowed deep again. “Y-Yes..My King.” After another, short bow to Anne, the spy was gone, the door shutting behind him. Anne smiled as she watched her King turn to look at her, a wide grin upon his face.  
  
“Dear old Odin, fallen into the Odinsleep. Oh, that is _brilliant_. I had thought I would have to contend with him, but no.” With each word he walked towards her, jubilant and ecstatic. “I will _rip_ the heart of Asgard out and bring it to it's knees before me, and Odin won't be able to lift a _finger t_ o stop me.”  
He gestured wildly with his arms, a sinister sort of excitement vibrating through his body, his aura rippling in waves around him. Anne thought in that moment that he looked very much like he had looked the very first time she had ever seen him; In Stuttgart, delivering a speech about freedom and servitude that she would eventually come to an exceptionally _intimate_ understanding of.  
  
It sent a chill down her spine, her body aching for that sinister dominance that had so thoroughly ravished her when had first held her captive. He looked energized. He looked malevolent. He looked villainous. She swallowed as he reached her, towering over her, his hand reaching down towards her. Clasping it in hers, she was pulled to her feet, into his waiting arms. Her body vibrated with excitement as she felt his lips move across her neck, his breath on her skin.  
  
“I will _take_ Asgard... just as I have taken every other Realm. And I will do it all in time to _save_ the Realms from the coming threats.” His voice whispered through her mind as she felt his arms around her, running along her body and exploring her curves as though he owned them. Which, he did. But that nagging thought still pulled at her consciousness, still implored her to speak.  
  
“And... what about Thor, Master?” She could feel his body stiffen as though made of lead, pulling back from her and gripping her shoulders at an arms length.  
“What _about_ Thor?” His voice took a much darker tone than that of his previous jubilations, betraying a sudden shift in mood. Her eyes widened as she gazed up at the face that had just moments prior been filled with such mirth, and now scowled down at her with a severity that made her cringe.  
  
“I.. I was just wondering.. what.. what is to become of Thor, Master?” His grip released her and he turned away, his expression derisive and his teeth clenched in annoyance. A dismissive hand was waved at the question.  
“ _Nothing_ is to become of Thor. He's a playing piece, nothing more. His purpose is to pave the way into Asgard for me, to hand the Realm over at Amora's behest, and to ride into battle with me when the time comes for it. Apart from that, I could not care less what becomes of him. Once his _usefulness_ is spent I shall be _rid_ of him.”  
  
She frowned, a feeling of deep disturbance overwhelming her. She knew that Loki could be cold, and he could be cruel. But she also knew that he was not a man devoid of emotion, no matter how he might pretend otherwise at times. And she felt sure that this was not how his relationship with his brother should be left standing. She coughed to clear her throat before speaking again.  
  
“You keep speaking of a coming threat that you will save the Realms from... what is coming Master?” He paused where he had been pacing, turning a light lipped scowl towards her. His manors had changed so drastically within moments, she was not sure what to expect.  
“There is an enemy, from outside of the Nine Realms coming to take them. To destroy them. I will not let it happen. I will _unite_ them and lead them against the coming threat.” His voice sounded strained as he spoke, as though it was not a topic he enjoyed being questioned on. She could see his throat constrict and his shoulders stiffen, and she hastened to speak to finish the conversation as quickly as possible.  
  
“If..if there is such a threat... Thor is a strong warrior but, will he not be more useful to you in the coming battle if he is able to wield Mjolnir?” That made his lips purse, his brows furrowed in a scowl she had very rarely seen upon his face. She winced as she realized that she had completely destroyed his good mood... but it was too late to back out of the conversation now.  
  
“ _Certainly,_ but while he is under Amora's spell he cannot wield it, for he is not himself. And if he _were_ himself, he would not be swayed to my cause. Thor is a great oaf who does not think before he acts, and does not listen to the council of others. He is stubborn and rash. And he will not see reason. You are suggesting I have Amora release him, only to have him turn on me and try to kill me?”  
  
She bit her lip as she tried to think of what to say. Shaking her head, she looked up to him with wide eyes. “No, Master, I... I'm sure he would not try to.. I mean, I'm certain that he could be made to see things your way Master. Shouldn't... shouldn't you _try_ to convince him? Instead of keeping him in.. in this brainwashed spelled state Amora has him in?”  
  
“ _What would you have me do?!_ ” Loki's voice was now a roar of anger, and she cringed away from him as she saw his rage increasing, his aura growing up around him like green flames. “I have talked with Thor many times, I have attempted to reason with him to no avail, _he will not listen!_ I know you have a soft spot within you for those _Avengers_ , and I have shown them much mercy on your account, but you cross a _line_ when you comes to _Thor_.” His voice reverberated through the room, an angry snarl that made him a menacing figure. She backed up against the wall behind her, hands reaching back to press against the cold stone.  
  
“But... But _Master_.. He's your _brother_ -” Her words were cut off as he stormed towards her, pinning her against the wall. She bit her lip and refrained from crying out, though she could hear her heart beating in her chest as fear began to well up within her. Her mind raced as thoughts poured through her. _Shit shit shit... this is a sore subject I shouldn't have brought it up..._  
  
“ _He is NOT my brother!_ ” Loki's voice roared out at her, his face an expression of pure rage. She had never seen him so.... uncontrolled as this. Generally even when he was angry he was calm, collected. But _this_... this was unbridled passion, a furious tempest unleashed. She could feel her throat constrict in fear as she looked at him. Her eyes shone as she waited, barely daring to breath. He glowered down at her, his eyes burning with emotion.  
  
“ _He never was_. I am not going to waste such _sentiment_ on one such as _him_.” As he spoke she drew in a deep breath, bracing herself against the wall. Her heart was pounding, beating faster and faster as the moment between them was drawn out. There was a boldness within her that called her to stay steadfast in her stance, but she didn't want to anger him further. Squaring her shoulders she dared to raise her head up towards him, setting her jaw in determination.  
  
“I remember from when I worked with the Avengers. Thor _loves_ you, Thor was _always_ talking about how much he missed you and  _wanted you to come home_. Thor-”  
  
“ENOUGH!” There was a loud cracking sound that reverberated through the room as his hand connected with her face, sending her back against the wall with the force of the blow. She did not have the breath to cry out, too surprised to scream. With wide eyes she looked at him, trembling and trepidatious.  
  
Not another word was spoken between them. She was panting, drawing in each breath heavily, her body trembling. The blow hadn't hurt so much as shocked her, and she was not sure what to say or do next. He did not give her a chance to. With a snap of his fingers, a grim scowl upon his face the last thing she saw, the room closed in on her. With a rush of green magic the room faded out of existence around her, replaced by his bedroom. She didn't need to try the door to know that it was probably locked.  
  
“Well what do you know...” She whispered to herself in shocked surprise as tears began to well up in her eyes, spilling over her cheeks. “Our first fight.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> Please also come and [say hi on Tumblr!](http://firstorder-pixie.tumblr.com) I'd love to chat ;)


	9. A Softer Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Anne make up after the tense argument from earlier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about how long this took! This is probably the fluffiest, most romantic and vanilla sex I've ever written and it was a challenge ahaha. I didn't expect to end up writing it from Loki's POV but it ended up happening, giving me a chance to explore his feelings a little more here. Hope you like it!

She felt his presence before she heard him. Her skin prickled with his nearness as he stood beside the bed, teleported directly into the room by magic. She could feel the aura, and the glow that permeated the room when he was near. Her tears had long since been spent. She was less upset that he had struck her... she was used to his strict disciplinary measures, and more upset and frustrated that she couldn't manage to make him see reason. That the strike had not been the usual calculated measure of purposeful punishment, but an act of sheer passion and anger.  
  
Despite this, she knew it would be out of line to refuse him her usual show of deference. The moment she could feel him enter the room, she removed herself from the bed, sinking with grace to her knees before him, bowing her head. Regardless of how she felt, she knew that he deserved her respect. She held back from shaking as she felt his hand rest upon her head, not yet speaking a word. He was still coming to grips with his own emotions as well.  
  
When he spoke, his voice was low and soft. There was a measure of tenderness in his tone that made her heart ache. “Antoinette. I give you much honour, and privilege. You are, more often than not, allowed to speak your mind. You are my consort, my beloved, and my companion. I would move _worlds_ for you. _However_.” He took a deep breath, fingers stroking her cheek and tangling in her hair, lightly exploring the blue locks. “You are _still my slave_ , and I expect you to behave with the deference and respect of your position. I do _not_ appreciated your disregard for my command earlier today. When I tell you I do not wish to discuss something, I expect you to leave it be.”  
  
She could sense his body stiffen, though she did not look up, soaking in his rebuke with an attentive ear. “I do not _ever_ want to hear another word about Thor. My relation to my former brother is no business of yours, there is history there that you cannot possibly comprehend and that I have _no_ desire to reopen. _Is that understood?_ ”  
  
She nodded her head, tears beginning to well up in her eyes once more. It hurt that he didn't seem to trust her enough to let her in, to confide in her the pain that very clearly consumed him when he thought of his brother. But he was her Master, and she was not going to question such a direct command. “Yes Master.” Her voice was a breathless whisper, her shoulders beginning to shake as she tried to hold herself back from crying again.  
  
A heavy sigh escaped his lips, and she felt his hand crook underneath her chin, drawing her gaze up to look at him. His eyes were filled with a kind of sorrow that she very rarely saw in him. “ _But..._ ” He began, frowning as he took in her bloodshot eyes, red around the edges from the tears she had already shed. “...I should not have struck you in anger like that. Discipline should be meted out with control, and purpose. _Not_ in angered impulse, and for that, I apologize. So I will forgive you your infraction... if you will forgive me _mine_.”  
  
Her eyes widened at that declaration. She couldn't think of any time she had ever heard him apologize, to anyone. He was not a man who easily acknowledged his own flaws, and yet here he was, apologizing to his slave for his behavior. She felt her withheld tears spill out over her cheeks, wet and warm as she gazed up at him with adoration. “Ma. _.Master.._ you don't.. I mean.. th.. _there's nothing to forgive,_ I.. I shouldn't have pressed the issue I'm sorry...”  
  
Without uttering another word he reached down to grasp her hand, pulling her up to her feet and into a tight embrace. As she felt his arms envelop her, warm and strong, the scent of metal and leather that always clung about his person surrounding her, she smiled, letting her tears spill freely. Her hands came up to cling to him, grasping at the leather tunic and pulling herself closer to him. The feel of his lips tender upon her head suddenly righted the world.  
  
“Now... you should go get cleaned up. A hot bath should wipe away those tears.” He leaned her back from him by the shoulders before he raised a hand to her face, using his thumb to remove the stains from her cheeks. “Take your time and _relax_... I have a special evening planned for us. No more arguments or crying, understood?” His eyes looked so soft, and so tender as he stroked her, and she nodded as she drew in a deep breath to calm herself. “Yes Master.”  
  
“Alright then.” With a swift motion he spun her around, pushing her towards the bathroom. A playful swat at her ass made her cheeks flush, reddening with a pleasant heat. Her eyes stayed on him even as she began to walk, a shy and timid smile gracing her features. Then she disappeared through the doorway, and Loki heard the sound of the taps being run. He let loose another sigh as he felt the tension that had been wracking him all day dissipate, his shoulders relaxing and his jaw unclenching.  
  
Today had not been one of his better ones, but tonight would be abundantly more pleasant. He would make certain of it.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

She had been right, of course. He knew he wouldn't have been so angry if it hadn't been true. If there wasn't a part of him that knew she was correct. Centuries ago he would never have imagined a life without Thor in it. Even before it had been clear who was going to inherent the throne of Asgard, the two had always assumed that they would rule it with their brother at their side. He had spent the day brooding on this, hours of painful memories and recollections that wracked him with guilt.  
  
The fall into the Void had changed him. He knew that. He would never have done the things he did now before being plucked from that icy abyss and set to a _glorious purpose_. He supposed he had allowed bitterness and hatred to gnaw at him like a parasite while he fell, and after. When he had been held in the clutches of one too terrifying to think of. He didn't want to think of it, to reflect. But somehow Anne brought out the better in him. And that terrified him.  
  
No matter. The subject had been put to rest for the time being, and under no uncertain terms. He did not want it brought up again... in fact he thought it would be better if it never surfaced in his mind again. So he put it aside, forcefully and with purpose. Better to indulge in pleasantries... he knew he would have precious few opportunities to do so in the coming days.  
  
The night air was cool as he lead the girl in front of his through the woods. She wore a blindfold, her hands clasped in his, ever trusting of his intent and his abilities. He knew that she knew he would not fail that trust. Each step was timid, taken with care, but she did not resist him. She walked where he directed her. Her cheeks were flushed red, a beautiful glow upon her skin that seemed to light up the world around her with her innocence. He liked that.  
  
“Where are you leading me, Master?” Her voice was playful, the question asked with a mischievous tone that made his own lips break out in a wide grin. “Just wait... _you'll see_.” The elven woods were filled with all manor of beautiful and enchanting flora and fauna... and he knew that a mortal, even one becoming accustomed to traversing the Realms as she was, would be mesmerized by the sight.  
  
As he brought her into the centre of the glade, he waited. He wanted to time this perfectly... waiting for just the right moment. The air around them was quiet and tranquil, just the barest hint of a breeze to rustle the grass. The moon was positioned just right in the sky to cast the perfect amount of light and shadow through the trees. And the flowers. They were alight.  
  
They always were, but during the daytime you couldn't see it quite as clearly. Their iridescent glow was brought out by moonlight. Bright reds, purples and blues bursting in a vivid display. He sat her gently down on a fallen log, his hands grasping her shoulders from behind. “Sit there.. and watch.”  
  
As she seated herself with slow and careful movements, his hands went to the blindfold, pulling aside the fabric and pocketing it in the flowing, more comfortable robes he wore this evening. Watched as her eyelashes fluttered, her eyes opening. Colour rising to her cheeks as her lips parted in delight. “Master...” She breathed, voice imbued with a sense of wonder. “It's... it's beautiful... is it _magic?_ ”  
  
He shook his head gently before he came to sit beside her, putting a possessive arm around her and pulling her close. “No... well, not _exactly._ It's a physical manifestation of the plant life's inherent siedr. It's caused by the moonlight falling upon it's petals... it will shine brighter as the night progresses and wane with the coming of daylight.”  
  
The display before them was eerily beautiful, the glowing light of the flowers pulsing like the ebb and flow of a tide. Some of them changed colours and others were constant, and the mystical light cast it's own shadows upon the wooded glade. He watched her draw in a breath, a soft sound upon her lips as she gazed at them, happy to take in the sight. He loved showing her things that amazed her... even little things, like what magically created music looked like, if you could see magic, and what the natural flowers of the elven wood did under the light of a full moon. She reacted with the innocence of a child and the reverence of an adult, and it pleased him to no end.  
  
In some way, it reminded him of the brazen way he used to approach the world in his own youth. When the mortals had referred to him as the god of Mischief, taking great delight in exploring everything that existence had to offer, and getting himself and others in trouble because of it more often than not. Before a wedge had grown between himself and his brother. When he could still be similarly awed by the sight of glowing flowers in Alfheim.  
  
He knew he had become far too serious since he had been sent back to Midgard with an army. Far too dark. As he pulled her closer, her head laying against his shoulder he smiled, pressing his lips into her hair and inhaling her scent. She was certainly not the first mortal he had ever bedded, ruled or commanded. But she was unique in this age, when contact with mortals had become more or less taboo. In his youth he would never have thought to _keep_ a mortal like he had kept her, but he was glad that their paths had so crossed.  
  
His fingers grasped her by the chin, gently pulling her to look at him. His lips pressed into hers as his arms wrapped around her, and she returned the kiss. As he felt her lips moving against his he held back from grinning, pulling her into his lap and placing her knees on either side of him. The glowing light of the flowers surrounded them on all sides, soaking them in their iridescence as his hands went to her skirts, pulling up the fabric and pushing it aside.  
  
Hands roaming her skin, her hips, her waist. He heard her breathless moans as his fingers explored, touching all the places he knew brought her the most pleasure. That spot in the small of her back. Up to her shoulders. Around to her breasts, fingers toying with the rosy buds that he knew for a fact where almost as sensitive as her clit. She was docile and compliant, letting him touch her however he pleased, and he could feel his own arousal stiffening as she reacted beautifully to every brush of a finger.  
  
“Oh.. _Master._.” She moaned for him as his lips found her neck, tongue tasting her skin as he ran his mouth along down her collarbone. He could feel her body tremble in his grip as he held her, teeth teasing her skin and leaving small marks in his wake. “Get my cock out.. stroke it.” His voice was husky and lust filled as he spoke into her ear, whispered commands that she hastened to obey. She was as methodical as she was eager, her hands moving to his loins to undo fabric and pull his erection loose.  
A soft moan escaped his lips as he buried his face in her neck, breathing in the scent of her, basking in the feel of her hands. She knew what she was doing... she had been with him long enough that she knew his body as intimately as he knew hers. Her obedient devotion was unchanged, her hands grasping his cock and stroking up and down, letting her fingers grasp the shaft.  
  
He shifted where he sat, drawing her in to him, letting his hands fall to touch her, felt her gasp as his fingers found their way to her sensitive clit. The ring gleamed in the moonlight, making her squirm as he stimulated her with his hands. He was pleased to see she was already wet, her lips parted as whimpering gasps began to fall from them like pearls.  
  
“ _Good girl_... do you want my cock?” He tilted her face upwards to look him in the eyes, smiling at the sight of the flushed red that graced her cheeks and the way her eyes had a hard time keeping his gaze.  
“Oh yes.. _please_ Master...” Her eyes were wide, her whole body shaking with desire as she grasped his cock. He knew how desperate she was for him already.  
  
“Very well..sit up then, pet. Get that pretty pussy over it.” She moved to obey, manuevering herself over his straining erection. He let a sigh of satisfaction pass his lips as she lowered herself onto it, filling herself with him. She felt incredible, her pussy swallowing him up as he moved to thrust into her.  
  
His arms pulled her close, holding her like he was afraid she would disappear. The glow of the flowers around them burst into full light as the moon shone bright above them, filling the glade with colour and a sweeping show of shining petals. Really, he supposed, the moment could be considered quite romantic.  
  
As they made love the two felt the world seem to disappear around them, the Realm fading into the heated sounds of lust and the swirl of emotion that bound them together. When she came, she came with what was possibly his favourite sound in all the Realms: His name, breathed in ecstasy and devotion. He did not allow her the privilege of speaking his name often, but in these moments of intimacy, when he owned her more than at any other time, nothing else in all of existence was sweeter than knowing exactly who she came for.  
  
And nothing else would undo him quite so fast, his own ecstasy unhinged by her ardent display of devotion, claiming her in a rush of pleasure and feral lust. Especially today, when they had both been so vulnerable before the other.  
  
“ _I love you, Antoinette_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> Please also come and [say hi on Tumblr!](http://firstorder-pixie.tumblr.com) I'd love to chat ;)


	10. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers meet with a representative of Loki's rulership to discuss the possibilities of surrender or truce, fully expecting to be dealing with the agent that betrayed them in the first place. They are shocked to find a different former ally is speaking on behalf of the King...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! These political discussion scenes always throw me for a loop lol. But it's important to note where things are and where they're headed, so I hope you enjoy this little bit! We'll get back to Anne and Loki next chapter ;)

Steve fidgeted as he looked a the computer readout. It was fairly dated machinery for modern standards, even worse when taking into consideration the post-modern fare that SHIELD, Stark Industries and especially Asgard was used to dealing with. But to Steve it was still mindbogglingly high tech. He let Tony and the others deal with the technical side of their work. Which was why it was Tony who had informed him of the transmission that had recently come to their attention.  
  
Loki wanted a parlay. The Avengers had been cordially invited to speak with a representative of Loki's rulership... to discuss 'The current military climate and the possibilities of future enterprises.' He had read the missive over and over. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.  
  
“It's clearly a trap.” Tony's voice cut through his thoughts. He turned to survey the man, speaking around a mouthful of food, a half eaten apple in his hand. “He wants to convince us to surrender, and failing that, he's gonna spring a trap on us. I don't know why you're even deliberating about it. We shouldn't respond, it's too risky.” Steve scowled. He knew that Tony was very likely right, but he didn't want to listen to reason at the moment.  
  
“You're one to talk about _risk taking_. I don't recall _you_ listening to sound reason very well in the past.” His voice was strained and hardened. There was a very real reason he wanted to take the bait and participate in a parlay. The missive had been signed, not by Loki: God of Mischief, King of Midgard and Rightful Ruler of the Nine Realms or whatever other title he was going by lately. It had been signed “Right Hand of the King.”  
  
Everyone knew who that was. Who was acting right hand to Loki's earthly throne. Formerly an agent of SHIELD, turned Loki sympathizer, who many would and did consider a traitor to humanity. _Anne Caton._  
  
It would be silly to say he had _loved_ Anne. They had barely dated. It had been a crush more than anything else, but the rejection and the betrayal had stung all the same. Still... she had saved his life, and the lives of the other Avengers, and he thought it was only fair turn to hear her out. And maybe... maybe convince her to come back.  
  
“Yeah, well, world destroyed, overthrown and taken over by a Norse deity with a penchant for mischief, here read _murder_ , kind of changes a guy. Besides, you wouldn't be singing that tune if you didn't have _history_ with ex-agent Caton. Would you, Rogers.” Tony's eyes bored into him, causing him to flinch and look away. Irritated.  
  
“She saved our lives. And, for all we know, she's been brainwashed. Manipulated, coerced. It wouldn't be the first time he used tactics like that. I just... I think we owe it to her to see this out.” Tony's face was hard as he listened to him, before he sighed and clapped him on the shoulder. Steve's face reddened as he looked up at the man, quirking a brow in question. “Look star-spangled-banner. I get why you want to do this, and I don't think less of you for it. You can just _say_ that you want to see her. You just have to be aware of what a _risk_ it is.”  
  
Steve looked up at the man beside him, before a female voice called out from behind. “Tony's right, Steve. We can do this parlay, but we have to bring back up.” Natasha sidled up beside them to look at the readout. “I've already got Wanda organizing to have soldiers ready. Clint will be with her and her team. The three of us will do the talking.” He felt a smile spreading across his face. Here in the midst of the turmoil of their lives, there was a glimmer of hope. The redhead's eyes focused on him sharply, puling him out of that in an instant. She was kind, but she could be severe as well. Serious.  
  
“ _Remember_ , there is more at stake here than just _Anne_. We _need t_ o see if we can get information out of her. Where is Bruce. Where is _Thor._ You need to have your head in this. I wouldn't have agreed if I didn't think we could benefit from this parlay, you got it?”  
  
Steve nodded as his eyes flit back to the parlay location. There was irony for you. The now destroyed SHIELD Headquarters.

 

  

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Tony watched Steve out of the corner of his eyes as the three of them stepped into the room. Rubble and debris was strewn about everywhere. To be fair, Loki's new rulership of the planet was including rebuilding after the devastation of the bloody wars of his conquest, and he had to admit that a sizable amount of the world had been restored already. But not here. Here was still in ruins. His feet crunched on the wreckage beneath them.  
  
He was wearing his Iron Man armour, face impassive behind the mask. They had only managed to recover so much after their loss, and this portable prototype was all he had had to work with. It included a limited, backup version of the JARVIS program, for which he was eternally thankful. He wasn't sure how he would have maintained his sanity otherwise. He wasn't sure how he had done so during his long confinement in Loki's dungeons, to be perfectly honest.  
  
Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers stood on either side of him, but it was Steve he was worried about. He knew Steve had history here, and although it wasn't like he didn't understand – God forbid he think of Pepper right now – he also knew they didn't have the luxury of making any mistakes. Natasha he didn't need to worry about. Steve was the emotional one.  
  
“Well _we're_ here on time. Looks like she's late. And here she's the one that invited us. Rude.” Tony's quips didn't elicit a chuckle, but that was fine. They rarely did. He continued to make them anyways. Nervous habit. There was a sound behind them and as one the group turned around, expecting to see the form of the their former colleague... and instead Tony's heart leapt up into his throat as his eyes locked with those of, to him, a much closer friend.  
  
_Bruce._  
  
The man looked good. He was standing tall, not so hunched over and timid as he remembered. Broad shoulders. Dressed in dark green clothes that looked, in a word, medieval. Not as elaborate of fanciful as he had seen either Thor or Loki sporting, but definitely Asgardian. The heavy metal contraption around his neck that he recalled from last time he had seen his friend was gone, replaced with a seemingly more decorative piece of gold.  
  
He pushed a button to open his helmet immediately, feeling the cool air wash over his skin, his eyes wide with confusion and hopeful happiness. “Brucie? What- How.. what are you doing here? How did you escape?” Steve and Natasha shifted where they stood, and he looked over at them to see similar confusion on their faces.  
  
“We lost all track of you after Loki killed Doom. He teleported you away and that was it.” Natasha's voice was friendly, but harboured a note of suspicion that made Tony look at her with incredulity. “Well it doesn't matter.” He insisted, throwing a lopsided grin back at his friend. “I see you got out of that fucking collar thing. You look good.”  
  
Bruce coughed once, looking up at Tony with a look of regret and the slightest hint of guilt. Steve stiffened, as though instinctively aware of what was going on. Took a hesitant step backwards. A sigh rippled through the figure before he spoke. “Hey Tony... Steve, Natasha. Look, I... You're not going to like to hear this but...” He squared his shoulders as though preparing for something, setting his jaw. “I'm here to negotiate a potential surrender as a representative of King Loki.”  
  
There was a hush as the three Avengers tried to process what they had just heard. Tony's heart sank, his stomach turning in distaste at the declaration. For a moment all he felt was denial, certain he hadn't heard correctly. Bruce wouldn't join with Loki, that was ridiculous. He was the one who had laughed as he claimed Loki was about as sane as a bag of cats. He couldn't...  
  
“The.. uh... the message. It was signed The Right Hand of the King. Where is she?” It was all Tony could think to say, his mouth going dry around the words. Bruce shrugged in response. “She delegated. Sent me. Figured you might be more apt to listen to me rather than her.”  
  
There was a loud crashing sound that made him flinch as Rogers threw down his shield. “ _Bullshit!_ What is going on here Bruce?! _You've_ joined Loki too? How is that even _possible?_ What is he _doing_ to people to get them on his side?!” They all knew Loki wasn't above mind control. Tony's eyes flit to the rafters where he knew Clint was perched, bow at the ready. But they also knew that he didn't have the mind control staff. That had gone down with SHIELD. And besides... He looked into Bruce's eyes, looking for those telltale icy blue signs of control. There were none.  
  
“Look I know you guys are upset, and I don't blame you. I would be too. But hear me out. Loki isn't... “ He sighed again, as though searching for the right words. Tony felt like he was going to be sick. “He isn't a _monster_ like we all though. Ruthless, yes. But he... he knows what he's doing. He's uniting the Realms. I've seen him doing it. Alfheim he didn't even have to conquer with military strength. Look at Earth. Do you _really_ think it was better off divided into little countries? Maybe... Maybe humanity _needs_ a guiding hand. Maybe we were made to be _ruled_.”  
  
Tony heard Natasha mutter some curses in Russian under her breath as Steve's fists clenched at his sides. Not threatening, just an act of frustration. “You sound like _Anne_.” His voice was hard and bitter. “Spouting meaningless propaganda.” They had all heard similar speeches. From Loki. From Anne. Loki's new world order was nothing if not thorough in it's use of media.

 

“It isn't just propaganda.” Bruce's voice was insistent, but Tony noted with a degree of interest that while he was getting firm, he was not getting angry. “I've _lived_ it. I've _seen_ the effect of Loki's power. He's not brainwashing us or mind controlling us... he..” He took a deep breath. “He's helping us. Helping us to understand our true place so that we can unlock our potential. I've seen it. I haven't felt this calm, this... _in control,_ in years. Always searching for a cure, to get rid of the Other Guy. He... He's got the Hulk under control. He's _helped me_ to control him. You have _no idea how that feels_. How it feels not to have that constant rage and vitriol buzzing in the back of my mind like a hive of angry wasps. I couldn't possibly go back.”  
  
Tony didn't know what to say. He felt tears welling up in his eyes as he listened to a man who he had thought, had _known_ , was a dear friend. He narrowed his brow and shook his head, willing himself not to cry, not to weep for the utter hopelessness of the situation. He had not been prepared for this. “This isn't _about_ you, Bruce. This is about _humanity_. About our _planet_. Our planet that is in the hands of a psychopath. The planet _you swore_ you would protect from psychopaths like him.”

  
Bruce nodded in agreement. “You're right Tony, this isn't about me. I just thought my personal experiences would be... _helpfu_ l, to give you some idea of what Loki is capable of. But you're absolutely right. This _is_ about Earth. And this is about the Realms. King Loki wants to propose a truce. He wants your cooperation, wants you on his side because there's something bigger coming. As you put it, a psychopath that wants to destroy _everything_. He'd like to work _with_ you, not against you on this. He doesn't want the Realms to be divided.”  
  
Tony was about to say something when Steve cut in. “Something coming? Wanda said something about that. _What is it? What_ is coming?” There was an urgency in his voice that Tony did not understand. They couldn't, _wouldn't_ work with the enemy. They would deal with any new threats as they came, but right now _Loki_ was the enemy. Bruce's eyes were on Steve as he spoke. “Where do you think Loki got an army of aliens in the first place? The Master of the Chitauri has had his eyes set on our Realms for a long time. Loki was going to be his pawn, his instrument to begin to take them, but he betrayed him. By loosing. To _us_. He let us destroy the Chitauri and the portal to bide Earth some time. Now he's trying to prepare the Realms by uniting them against him. He needs you... he needs _us_ on his side.”  
  
Steve looked like he was contemplating, absorbing the information, but before he could say anything Tony cut in. “I don't give a _shit_ about any of that. If any of it is even true. As far as I'm concerned, Bruce, Loki is a _fucking menace_ and you are a _traitor._ We will not negotiate or cooperate with the enemy. You're lucky I don't punch you right in your fucking teeth just to see how much _more control_ you apparently have. We're _done_ here.” The mask closed, and Bruce found himself staring into the impassive face of Iron Man.

  
As he turned to leave he heard Natasha's voice, sad and sympathetic, but no less hard. “Tony.” He raised a hand to acknowledge the word, and wave it aside. “Can it.” His tone was harsh, masking his hurt with anger and bitterness. He would not accept this. He could not. He strode out of the room, shoulders back and head high. If Bruce was going to attack them, spring a trap, now was the time to do it. But no attack came. Steve and Natasha looked first at each other, sharing a moment of understanding and sympathy. Then to their former friend and ally. Then turned to follow Iron Man out of the ruins of the building.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> Please also come and [say hi on Tumblr!](http://firstorder-pixie.tumblr.com) I'd love to chat ;)


	11. Family Relations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne discovers that Loki has a daughter, and proceeds to find out more about his family history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a bit of exposition, I apologize if it's a bit info-dumpy, but I wanted to get a sweet lil scene out there where they actually have a normal conversation as a couple, discovering stuff about each other ahaha.

The projection in the mirror wavered only slightly, the magic not quite as strong as he wished it might be, pulled thin as it was across Realms. The dark image of the girl, who appeared simultaneously young and ancient, watched him with some apprehension as he spoke. Of the upcoming wars that would tax their strength and their resources. Of the strategies needed to be put into place.  
  
“The beast is attempting to convince the heroes of Midgard to side with me in the coming conflict.” He answered in response to a posed question about the status of his Midgardian influence. Her lips pressed together in a thin line before she spoke, derisive in her tone. “Do you really think he will succeed?” The man shook his head, a playful twinkle in his eyes. His daughter was much more serious than he was, excelling at predicting outcomes and planning for each eventuality. He valued that skill in her, and although he possessed it as well, he did not share her pessimism.  
  
“ _Of course not_. Not on the first go of it at least. Even he had to be brought around slowly. Even _Antoinette_ did.” That made the figure in the mirror huff in impatience, turning aside for a moment before she regarded him once again in full. “That girl is more trouble than she is worth. Were it not for her, you would not be dealing with the Avengers at all.”  
  
He shrugged. He allowed the girl to speak her mind, but that did not mean that he agreed with everything that she had to say. And she was more than aware of it. “It is _because_ of Antoinette that the _Hulk_ sides with me. She has more than enough uses to make her a necessary tool in my plans.”  
  
A bark of cruel laughter left the woman's green lips. “Oh, yes. Like her newfound _abilities._ Teaching her the language of the Arcane if I recall? You are a _fool._ Have you not considered that she could turn such an ability against _you?_ ”  
  
His eyes narrowed, his patience beginning to wear thin with the dark haired spectre before him. “She is nowhere _near_ powerful enough to siphon magic from _me_.” The mirth in his voice was gone, hardening to match the woman's tone. She shook her head, a cruel smirk resting upon her features that seemed to mirror the expression that he was so accustomed to wearing. “Not _now,_ perhaps. But if you teach her how to use her newfound abilities, there's no _telling_ how powerful she may grow. She may, indeed, surpass you one day. Her ability is unheard of. It's unpredictable. You are playing with fire in encouraging it.”  
  
He grimaced, unhappy with the direction the conversation was taking. “Even if she _were_ to surpass me in power, Hela, she will _never_ lift a hand to betray me. She cannot.” His voice was heavy with warning, his expressions and stance tense. He felt a rush of anger at even the suggestion, from one who did not know the girl in question, that his prized pet might turn on him.  
  
“Are you certain?” The woman did not let up the line of questioning, though she could easily tell the effect it was having on her King. “Just how much do you _trust_ your precious little _pet?_ ” Her voice was full of scorn. It was lucky for her sake, that they were separated by Realms of space.  
  
“There are _few_ in all the Realms that I love, and fewer still that I _trust._ Antoinette can count herself amongst both of those groups. I trust her more than I trust even _you_ , my love.” His voice was a mockery of sweetness, a cloying sense of derisive facetiousness. She only grinned wide at that, baring her teeth in a mixture of amusement and menacing intent that showcased her grim nature. Her skin rotten and pulled back to bare the bone beneath as she allowed the illusion of completion to fall for just a fraction of a moment. She saw the approach of the slave girl before he did, the tentative movements of the mortal who had only just entered the room, head bowed in reverence, observing the protocols he had set in place.  
  
“In that, _at least,_ you show wisdom, Father.” He turned for a moment, seeing the girl out of the corner of his eye, his demeanour softening at her approach. His eyes turned again to the ghastly creature before him. “That will all for today, my daughter. I will speak with you again before the end.”  
  
As the strange ghostly woman nodded, the projection disappeared in a flurry of magical energy that burst across Anne's vision and made her see spots for just a moment before it was gone. The mirror was just a mirror. She gulped, swallowing as she bowed her head lower. “A..apologies Master.. I didn't mean to intrude...”  
  
He smiled and extended at arm towards her. Her heart sang with desire as she moved near to him, dropping to her knees before him and resting her head upon his thigh. “Not at all, pet. I trust you are well? Come, sit with me on the bed.” Green magic energy went out from his fingertips as he reached towards her collar, golden chain materializing to pull her along willingly on hands and knees before she was brought up to the bed. As he lay back against the headboard he pulled her to rest her head again on his leg, curling up like a kitten in the crook of her Master's body.  
  
A thought needled at her mind as his hand rested on her head. She had entered the room just in time to hear the send off, and it struck her as strange and surprising. Words he had spoken some time ago came back to her, promises of placing within her an heir to his throne... of course, that might have just been a thought that had come to him in the heat of the moment, fuelled by passion and lustful desire. She frowned.  
  
“....Master?” Her wide eyes peered up at him and he smiled, ruffling her hair a little before responding. “Yes, pet?” She drew in a deep breath. Their earlier altercation had made her only slightly weary of asking questions... but she knew that she would be more diligent to back off of clearly sensitive subject matters in the future. Biting her lip, she forged ahead.  
  
“Did you.. mean it? When you said that you would put an heir in me some time ago?” He frowned for a moment his curiosity piqued, a twinkle alighting in his eyes as he shifted where he sat, crossing a leg over the other. Gently tugging her leash to re-position her so she was closer to him. “Why? Do you not want to bear my child someday?”  
  
She wasn't actually sure if she wanted it or not. The idea had barely been planted, and they were still in the midst of the chaos of his campaign for the Realms, far too chaotic a time to be worrying about such things. She shook her head as she looked at him, trying to express her query. “I..no, it's not that, it's just...” She thought of the ghostly image she had only barely seen in the mirror before it had evaporated in a dazzling flash of magic. “If you already have a daughter why do you need a child by me?”  
  
At that he laughed, nodding with a knowing smile as he put his arms around her shoulders, wrapping her up in his lap. “ _Ahh_... I suppose I have never told you about my daughter before. My apologies.” He drew in a deep breath, a serene and pleasant calm clinging about him. She could not help but snuggle into his warmth, waiting for him to speak again.  
  
“I, in fact, have _four_ children.” She blinked at that, raising a brow in question, but he continued before she could vocalize it. “The first three were triplets, born to me by the giantess Angroboda. Demon children, many called them, magically enhanced creatures with uncontrolled shape-shifting abilities. Fenrir, the wolf child, Jormungand, the giant serpent, and Hela who you saw briefly just now. One other son was born to me, centuries later, by my then wife Sigyn. His name was Nari.”  
  
He fell quiet for a moment, and Anne processed the information. Not only did the man she loved have children, he had four children, and an ex-wife as well. Not that that surprised her... he was centuries old after all. He was bound to have some... _personal history_. “And... _none_ of them are your heir?” She queried, the question eliciting a restrained grin from him and a shake of his head.  
  
“Jormungand would be an excellent choice... he is intelligent, ruthless, good at managing people. In control of himself, exercising a great deal of personal discipline. Unfortunately he has no desire to inherit my legacy, whatever it may be. He has abandoned my family name, and wants nothing to do with me.” Loki's voice was not regretful, merely observatory, as though the facts of his relation to his son were something old and far gone that had been put to rest a very long time ago. “Fenrir on the other hand, he wants my name. It just so happens that he would be a lousy choice for the job, especially if I succeed in taking the Realms. The boy doesn't know the meaning of the word discipline. He embodies pure chaos, utterly out of control. There are.... regrettable, but _sound_ reasons why they were banished from Asgard.”

 

He laughed, his fingers playing with light touches across her naked skin. “Between the both of them I might have one perfect heir, but.... _Well._ And then there is Hela. She would be ideal, she is already well accustomed to rulership. She is a Queen already. Unfortunately, her... _disposition_ makes her unfit for all of the Realms. She rules the shadow Realms, the dead and the monstrous. She has already succeeded in taking Helheim, Svartleheim, and Muspelheim. And I have given her the rulership as well of Jotunheim. She will have to appoint an heir of her own. That is _her_ legacy. And Nari....” He sighed, a saddened cadence slipping into his voice for just a moment. “Nari is, regrettably, no longer amongst the living. His soul has been in Hela's keeping in Helheim for many centuries past.”  
  
He shifted, fingers playing idly with strands of her hair. “So you see my dear, I am yet in need of an heir, despite the children already born to me.” Anne frowned, her curiosity growing as she pondered. His children sounded horrendous, but she didn't want to say as much. She shuddered as she recalled the half rotted visage of the ghostly woman in the mirror. His daughter, a shape-shifter born of a giantess. As she leaned into his hand her lips parted to timidly speak again.  
  
“Will you... um.” She paused, her heart beat picking up as she considered the question. “Tell me about these women from your past, Master?” She felt a burning curiosity to know what kind of women he had been with before her, even as her stomach twisted in jealousy that any woman's hands had touched him. That any other had had the honour and privilege of pleasing him. As if he knew her thoughts, he smiled and responded quickly, “Why? Are you _jealous_ , pet?”  
  
She pouted. He knew she was. He grinned down at her, lazily exploring her breasts, his fingers swirling around her skin as he thought for a moment of what to say. Finally he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her head. “Angroboda. Now there was a fearsome woman, and my first sexual relationship, rather early in my youth. Not, of course, my _first_ sexual partner... _that_ honour I'm sure goes to some palace milkmaid or other. But my first consistent partner.” His hands in front of her left her skin, his fingers swirling around each other. She watched as magic leapt from his fingertips, bringing to life a green image of, indeed, the most fearsome woman she had ever seen.  
  
Strong, muscular, well endowed. A giantess in all of her features. Even just the small image was intimidating. “The relationship was not serious, neither of us expected it would last forever... she was much more experienced than I. In fact, you likely have _her_ to thank for my... _expertise_.” Those last words were spoken with a chuckle as the image disappeared. “We were no longer seeing each other before our children were born. She was a.... _wild_ woman.”  
  
He paused, his fingers swirling again as a new image was conjured. Lithe, feminine, graceful. The figure was clad in the flowing gowns of Asgard. Despite the slighter physique, this woman appeared no less in control, her face proud and confidant. “And Sigyn... that was a marriage of political convenience. It aligned a powerful family to the house of Odin. She was prominent enough that an alliance was desirable, but not desirable enough...” He stopped, and she could easily sense the unspoken conclusion. Not desirable enough to be married to _Thor_. She thought for a moment that she had seen a little bit behind the curtain of his strained relationship with his brother.  
  
“In any event...” He continued abruptly, shaking himself, the image fading from his hands. “I... _attempted_ to make our marriage work. We were never in love, though we held a mutual respect for one another. But she... she was very headstrong, very _proud_. Not.. _ha._..” He grinned as he placed his hands back on her shoulders, fingers playing on the collar around her neck. “Not exactly what one might call _submissive._ Which was her right, but was not... _ideal_ for me, in a mate. Nevertheless, we were together for many centuries. It was the death of our son that put the final nail in the coffin of our marriage, as it were.”  
  
She shifted slightly where she lay against him, moving to nuzzle her cheek into his abdomen. It was fascinating, hearing about his history like this, even if it made her a little uncomfortable. It felt like he was opening up to her, just a little, which was not something she had experienced him do very often.  
“And you, pet?” She blinked, lifting her head to gaze up at him. “Me... Master?”  
  
“Come now, don't be coy. You were not a virgin when I took you from SHIELD. Surely you have some sexual history yourself, and as long as we're being honest....” She heard the note of warning in his voice, and hastened to respond. He had never asked before, and it had been so long since she had thought about past partners.  
  
“I... had a boyfriend. Before SHIELD. His name was Derek.. we dated for.. umm... I think around four years?” She blushed, realizing how minuscule that must sound in comparison to the centuries he had spent with his partners. “But... He wasn't... I mean...” She blushed, looking away as a mischievous grin spread across his features. “It wasn't... as good.” The last words muttered with a shy kind of timidity.  
  
That made him laugh, his hands tightening around her in an embrace. “Of course it wasn't... I'm sure he had _no idea_ the gem he had in his hands. No idea what you _need._ ” She swallowed, her face turning a brighter shade of red as she kept her gaze off to the distance, unable to meet his eyes. “And? That is your _only_ previous sexual partner before me?”  
  
She bit her lip, shaking her head slightly. “I... um. There was a guy in highschool too but... it wasn't a relationship. It was awkward.” She felt awkward just talking about it, to Loki, the _god of Mischief_ no less. He chuckled at her obvious embarrassment. “Well. You're _mine_ now, and that is not going to be changing anytime soon. You're lucky I know enough to guide you, not let you flounder in awkwardness. I dare say Midgardian _boys_ haven't the slightest notion of what they are doing.”  
  
She hummed for a moment, contemplating his words, wrapped up cozily in the prospect of being his for the rest of eternity. He was right. She couldn't possibly want any other man after having been with him. Even the brief interlude when she had considered Steve Rogers had not been anywhere near the level of comfort and fulfillment that she felt here, safe in his arms.  
  
One more question nagged at her, pulling the corner of her lips in a playful smirk of her own. “I just have one more question Master...” She began, looking up to see him quirk a brow in her direction. “Oh? Well out with it, what question is that, pet?”  
  
“I've read some _Norse Mythology_...” she began, and he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes with a laugh. When mortals began sentences like _that,_ there were only so many things that would come out of their mouths next. “...And I have to ask about Sleipnir?”  
  
He tried to suppress a grin. Failed. Laughter rolled off his tongue as he looked down at her, his eyes twinkling. He had indeed heard this question before. “ _Norns_ , is that story still going around? It never ceases to amaze me how very gullible mortals are. Are you really asking if I changed myself into a mare, copulated with a stallion, and then gave birth to an eight legged foal?”  
  
She considered for a moment, tilting her head as she looked up at him. “Well.... _did you?_ Master?”  
He grinned, leaning forward to press a kiss to her brow. Whispered into her ear with a playful lilt.  
_“I'll never tell.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> Please also come and [say hi on Tumblr!](http://firstorder-pixie.tumblr.com) I'd love to chat ;)


	12. Broken Alliances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki confronts Amora about the sinister plots of Doctor Doom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE BEEN WAITING TO WRITE THIS. You didn't think I'd forgotten about Amora's hand in Doom's schemes did you? Muahahaha. :D

Loki stepped through the portal, bathed in a green light as his feet came to rest upon floors of gold. He was immediately awash in a feeling of familiarity and sickening nostalgia. The room was practically _drenched_ in magic, woven with care for the meeting to be shielded from the eyes of a certain watchman, but it was still easily apparent where he was. He could feel it deep in the very marrow of his bones. This was Asgard. This was _Home._  
  
Not the Palace, not even the capitol city. That would be far too risky, attracting far too much potential attention. But the natural magic of the realm thrummed through him like a first breath of fresh air after having been shut up for years of his life. He breathed it in greedily, in the same breath he released it. It was a bittersweet return to the realm in which he had spent his youth, been raised to _belong_. It was torturous knowing that he did not. But a cruel twist of fate made him smile; he was well on his way to claiming it as his own. If it did not belong to him by blood, then it would belong to him by conquest.  
  
As he opened his eyes he took in the sight of the trio of Asgardians standing before him. Amora looked practically regal, dressed in the finery expected of the Consort of the Acting King of Asgard. Behind her stood a large muscle bound beast of a man, broad shoulders and heavy legs. He wore the customary armour of a warrior, the image of an axe emblazoned on his chest. His stance was casual, but readied. _So she has managed to free her pet dog from Asgard's dungeons,_ he thought with a wry smile.  
  
To her side, however, stood a man with whom he was much more intimately familiar. Thor looked vacant, a blank expression upon his face, his eyes glazed over with green. He stood motionless, unseeing, as though in a trance. Still, the sight of him was jarring enough to make Loki curse under his breath.  
  
Amora stepped forward with a smile, her expression dripping with a kind of smug arrogance as she made a show of bowing with a flourish. “Welcome to Asgard, _my King_.” As she righted herself again she tilted her head in curiosity. “What brings you here on so _risky_ a venture to come in person?”  
  
Messengers were more than enough communication between the realms generally, and when he needed to speak to his agents more personally, spells could link them across the realms with relative ease. He knew that coming to Asgard was a risk, but it was one he needed to take. He turned towards his brother, not deigning to give Amora any more attention than was necessary.  
  
“I wanted to ascertain with my own eyes that Thor is indeed in thrall, and things are going according to scheduled plans.” His eye's swept over the warrior's form. He was docile, entranced. Amora's power over him was more than complete, and he had to admit with a wry smile that her spells were quite impressive.  
  
“Why _Loki_ , dearest.” She clucked her teeth, frowning in exaggerated pout. “Don't you _trust_ me?” She came around to his side, setting a hand on his shoulder, letting her fingertips run along the metal plating. He gazed at her out of the corner of his eye, taking in her seductive stance with disinterest.  
  
“Your abilities, or your intent?” His voice was low, the hint of warning evident in the way he spoke with a quiet kind of authority. Her lips pursed in response, continuing her playful show of pained regret. A hand clutched at her heart. “ _Either!_ You wound me. _Really,_ you would think after we have known each other for so long-”

 

“It is _because_ of how long we have known each other that I mistrust you Amora.” He cut her off, turning to face her more fully. She backed away from him for a moment, eyeing him fully up and down, taking in his stance and his body language. Putting on an air of casual nonchalance she crossed her arms, waving aside his assertion.  
  
“Well, I suppose you have reason to be so nervous, after that dreadful affair with dear Victor.” The cutting words dug into him, the memory of the almost delirious search through the castle and the subsequent battles to fight his way back into power clawed at his mind. The indignation and the helpless feeling of watching his pet dangled in front of him in danger. His lips curled in a sinister sneer.  
  
“Ah, yes. _Speaking_ of Doom...” He ignored the unsettling presence of his brother now, awake but unseeing as he advanced on the Enchantress before him in slow steps. She watched him carefully as she withdrew in matching paces. “I was rather _impressed_ that he learned the art of portals so very quickly. I wonder how he managed that?”  
  
She smiled easily, staring him down as she came to lean against the large bulk of her body guard. The man was built like a brick, his impressive mass unmoving as he watched with an impassive eye. “Who knows?” Her flippant tone of voice did not betray even a tremor of uncertainly. “He was resourceful for a mortal, my sources say. _You_ worked with him closer. You must have been able to tell the signs of his betrayal?”  
  
The ghost of an amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he inclined his head towards her in agreement. “Yes. The intent, not the ability.” His words were laced with the kind of indulgent poison reserved for those he had caught in the webs of their own lies. The calm and seemingly gentle lilt to his voice easily recognized by those who knew him as a trap. He looked over his shoulder to his brother once more, changing the topic abruptly. “Thor seems to be well in hand.” His eyes returned to Amora before travelling up to the large blue clad warrior behind her. “And I see your Executioner is loose.”  
  
She scoffed at that, bringing a hand to play along the front of the man standing at her beck and call. Fingers grazing him suggestively. He did not seem to notice, staring Loki down, unmoved. “Hardly _loose._ I certainly keep him on a shorter leash than you keep _your_ underlings.” She laughed, eyeing Loki with a wary gaze. “What are you here for, _really,_ Loki?”  
  
He drew himself up to full height, looking the body guard in the eye for a lingering moment before his line of sight turned back to the woman. “I want to speak to my brother.” Anne's words had had an effect on him. She had at the very least been correct that Thor would be of more use to him if he could wield _Mjolnir_. And as much as he was loath to admit it, he missed the ease of the relationship he had once had with his brother.  
  
“Oh now he's your _brother_ again is he?” Amora's voice was cruel and mocking, a sharp barb designed to get under the skin of a still festering wound. He grit his teeth, knowing that she would twist the knife as much as she could. “You think I'm going to release him from my spells now that I finally have the lover I have always dreamed of, as well as the kingdom that comes with him?” As she spoke she moved from where she stood, flitting around his form. He watched her with the wariness of a cornered animal as she moved to circle the vacant Thor, draping her arms around his shoulders. “And he _is_ by the way. An _incredible_ lover.” She mocked him openly with her eyes as her hands touched the enspelled Asgardian, let her fingers drift over his arms and chest.  
  
In a flash he was beside her, his eyes flashing in warning as his hand came out to grasp her throat. She stiffened in his grip, letting her hands fall to her sides as he pulled her away from the almost lifeless Thor to face him fully. “ _Listen here_ , Amora.” His voice was simmering with barely contained fury and a quickly diminishing patience. The large form of the bodyguard immediately stirred, reaching for the axe slung over his shoulder, but at a raised hand from the woman clad in green he stilled.  
  
“I will have need of Thor in the coming battles. I want to see if he will submit to me willingly, or if I will indeed have need of your _spells_ to keep him in check.” Anne had been able to bring around the Hulk, and the other Avengers might be more easily swayed if Thor were to side with him as well. As much as he doubted the possibility, he knew that it was worth another try to bring his brother around.  
  
“Your _desires_ in this do not matter. You will release him for the moment now, or I will bring such havoc down on Asgard that you will rue the day you decided to disobey your _King_.” His grip on her tightened, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that he had now shown her since he had had to rescue Anne from her clutches. Her eyes widened a fraction, as though recalling vividly that time. His voice was a low growl as he spoke again. “Do not make me _remind_ you what I am capable of.”  
  
She tore herself from his grasp, her eyes narrowing as she barked out a laugh. Standing between the two men at her command she raised her hands at her sides. They both stirred, weapons coming to hand. Skurge with his axe, and Thor with a hammer that, which not Mjolnir, looked hefty enough to do considerable damage. Loki stiffened as he watched the quickly escalating mood of the room.  
  
“You cannot command me any longer, Loki. I have more power and more allies now than you know. If _Doom_ had done his job right, I would be rid of you already.” She backed up a few paces, while the men advanced. Loki stood his ground, a deep furrow on his brow. Her smile was as malevolent as his frown was dour. “I'm cutting political ties with your realms, _King Loki_. Asgard will not cooperate with you in any further endeavours. You will leave Asgard be, and in return I will not take Asgard to war against your pitiful little backwater realms.”  
  
That prompted the beginnings of a smile to play on the corners of his lips. He nodded slowly, his hand tightening around the staff he carried. “Doom's job.... so it _was_ you that sent him, then. Taught him the magic required to open the portals. Planned the whole affair.” His hands took the staff between them, his gaze dropping to the sharp end in contemplation. His fingers slowly taking on a bluer pallor.  
  
Amora only laughed, her arms crossing over her front as she watched the standoff between the two large Asgardians and the far slighter figure of the god of Mischief. “Oh he was already going to plunge a knife in your back. I only gave him a push in the right direction.” Her voice lilted in amusement, lips parting to bare teeth. He matched her smile, calm and considering. Patient, and dangerous.  
  
“I fully expected betrayal, from both of you, Amora. It would not be personal, merely the risks run of working with such _lowlifes_. But you, and Victor, crossed a _line_ when you put Antoinette in harms way.” The room was thick with a kind of tension as the men present seized each other up. Loki's eyes passing between his ensorcelled brother and the more willingly loyal Executioner at her beck and call. Their eyes on him, as well. The woman's tone took on a more irritated cadence at the mention of Anne, her pretense of civility dropping as her lips curled in a snarl.  
  
“Oh Antoinette _Antoinette_. You're a lovesick fool for that damn pathetic little _mortal_. It's _frankly_ disgusting.” She paused, letting her back rest against the wall behind her before speaking again. “And if you think your _precious little Antoinette_ has any greater loyalty to you than either me or Victor, you're even more of a fool. That girl will _rip you to shreds_ , and you will _let her_ , mark my words.” She no longer sounded playful. There was a dangerous air about her, one that Loki had seen many times before. He scowled, dropping his own facade. He was tired of the charade. His decision had been made. Anne would get her chance to reform Thor, after all. “ _Release my brother_.”  
  
Amora smirked as she shrugged, settled back to watch the show. “Why don't you _make me?_ ” At those words the men sprang into action, anticipating her whim in a heartbeat. Weapons flashed through the air, Loki's body spinning within that split second to propel himself out of the way of the hammer and then the swing of the axe.  
  
His staff whirled through the air in an arc, cold rushing through his hands and along the length of it to shoot ice from the sharpened blade on the end. It moved in a sweep to catch the arm of the Executioner, a beautiful spray of blood following the cut and freezing into jewels of red. The man grunted once before returning the blow, his axe swinging downward over Loki's head. The god had to scramble to weave a shield of ice, his fingers moving in tandem with the motion of the blade to catch it just before he might have found himself separated from his crown.  
  
He did not have time to get his barrings as he whirled around just in time to intercept Thor's hammer, catching it with the spear in a flurry of icy movement. Then he dropped to his knees, his hands holding him in place by the staff. His feet swung around to catch Thor's legs, throwing the god off balance, stumbling backwards.  
  
As he was fighting off the two assailants Amora watched, and laughed. Her voice filled the room with the cruel peals of sound as though the three of them were gladiators, battling for her amusement. He huffed out a breath as he teleported to the other side of the room, catching the Executioner by surprise from behind. More blood flew through the room in frozen drops as he caught his other arm, deliberately aiming to hinder his abilities with his own weapon. Then he moved again, and this time each movement created a replica of himself, clones filling the room and circling the opponents.  
  
Thor he needed to knock out. Skurge he had no problem killing. He swung the blunt end of the staff backwards around to take Thor in the skull, but missed as the entranced deity ducked out of his way. Even under Aroma's spell, his brother was a formidable opponent. But he did not know Loki's tactics quite so intimately as he might if he were in his right mind. With a flourish, Loki swapped places with a clone behind him, both hands bringing down the blunt of the staff over the crown of his head even as the god took another swing with his hammer through the clone that had replaced him.  
  
Thor went down to the ground in an instant. There was no telling how long he would be out, so Loki's next movement was to advance upon Skurge, intent on ridding himself of another opponent before he lost the opportunity. Clones circled the man, who was becoming more and more frustrated as his axe sliced through thin air over and over, Loki's laughter ringing out around him, spinning his head with confusion.  
  
And then, he struck. The staff whirled in a circle, spinning ice blue as it's wielder burst through the circle of clones, his skin turned blue now and his eyes blood red. He snarled, his teeth bared and sharp as ice sliced through the man's armour with a clang. Skurge howled in pain as he stumbled backwards, clones dissipating in midair as he crashed against the wall. Then he whirled around, catching Amora's sword with his hand.  
  
She had moved to sneak up on him while he was busy dispatching the warrior, a blade of pure magical energy slicing through the air to connect with his neck. Instead he caught it in hand, grabbing the sharp end and pulling it in towards him. The woman stumbled for a moment before she had regained her footing, yanking the blade free of his grip. His blood ran violet from his hand, spilling out over the floor with a hiss of pain forced through clenched teeth. As he reached out to find the magical energies in her body he realized with a start that she had not been _lying_ before: She _was_ more powerful than she had been before. Something was swirling in the magics that she wielded, flowing out from her in rivers of power that had never before been so near his own abilities.  
  
As she leapt at him he had to duck and weave to the side to avoid another blow, throwing a blast of ice in her direction which she easily sliced through, twin blades of energy in hand. She laughed, her nimble feet dancing across the floor. “Did you disbelieve me when I said I was more powerful than before?” Her voice rang out, haughty and self assured. His eyes narrowed as he grit his teeth, ice beginning to crawl out from his form, the room chilling under his rage and frustration. She put her hands out, magic blades dissipating into swirls of green energy that danced on her fingertips.  
  
Ice met pure arcana as she advanced on him. He could feel the pull of the magic incantations before they even reached him, and his eyes widened as he realized what she was doing. For all she was more powerful, she was not strong enough to defeat him here, like this. So she was going to push him _out._ It was not something she should be able to do, overcome his own power to forcibly expel him from the realm against his will, but he knew the moment her hands connected with his shoulders that she had the power required. The room began to fade. And just as it did so, he sensed it.  
  
Another presence. One he had not been near in... not nearly long enough.  
  
The sound of the woman's laughter imprinted itself on his mind and he gave out a hard cry of rage. “You are no longer _welcome_ in Asgard, Loki _Laufeyson_.” Asgard itself was pushing him out, the powers of the Enchantress bolstered by the very one he was soon to face, the one for whom he was preparing. He screamed. The world went dark.  
  
Then he was standing once again in Alfheim.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> Please also come and [say hi on Tumblr!](http://firstorder-pixie.tumblr.com) I'd love to chat ;)


	13. The Field of Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war with Nidavellir is now in full swing. Both Anne and the Hulk fight alongside King Loki in his efforts to continue his conquest of the Realms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I am so sorry this was so long coming. I've been very sick for the past few weeks and it really broke me out of my writing stride. Hopefully back into the swing of things now! Just a quick warning, this is the first time I've written full out _war_ and it isn't particularly pretty. It's violent, and yes our heroes are killing people. It's not very nice.

His eyes took in the chaos as he looked out on the field below. The war he had launched was in full swing, armies of humans and jotuns, elves and vanir, rushing forward to meet the dwarven legions. His face was set in a grim line. This was much cleaner war than he had waged against Midgard. The united nature of Nidavellir meant that it was much less messy and time consuming, but ultimately a harder battle. This would be decided swiftly, decisively, and soon. A few days at the most. And he would need every scrap of advantage and strength he could muster.  
  
The horse stirred beneath him, the beasts powerful muscles tight and ready to move in an instant should he command it. His had reached out to absently stroke it's neck, the fur rough under his fingertips. He could hear the sound of the horses breath above the din of the battle below. This was not the end battle. It was only a small engagement, the beginning to a new campaign for a new realm.  
  
“And so we begin.” The white horse came up beside him, neck to neck with the shining black coat of his own. The Queen of Vanaheim's voice was even and pensive. “I certainly hope you know what you're doing, Loki. If we loose this, Vanaheim's position with the dwarves will be destroyed. I will hold you personally accountable.”  
  
A smile spread at the corners of his lips as he turned to gaze at the woman who commanded the armies that were bolstering his own. Her participation in this endeavour was crucial. A realm such as Nidavellir did not fall at the hands of one, or even two armies.  
  
“I believe you should find my planning to be more than adequate, my Queen.” He inclined his head towards her with a gracious smile. “If we loose this, I shall make any amends to your crown as you deem fit.” She extended her hands towards him, which he accepted with a flourish, grasping it in his own and bringing it to his lips as he bowed his head. His eyes flitted up to gaze at her even as his lips still caressed her skin in a kiss. “You may do with me as you will.”  
  
She was dressed in the most resplendent of gold armour, beautifully engraved with the sigils of her house and the ornate designs of her realm. Full plate mail, covering her body, fit to form in every way. She shone like a beacon, the gold bright against the dark tones of her skin. Loki's own armour paled in comparison, his signature gold and green interspersed with leatherwork giving him more agility, but less of a fantastical visual impact. The only thing that outdid the queen of Vanaheim were the large horns upon his head, set into the helmet.  
  
He stretched out his other hand, directing her gaze to the field below them, where a large hulking creature was laying waste to troop upon troop of dwarven soldiers. A swath of red surrounded the green giant, enemies scattered under his crashing feet. Loki released the Queen's hand as he turned to look out at his most valuable weapon as well, a look of smug satisfaction resting on his features. “...But I don't believe that we will loose.”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Chaos. Everywhere. Small people, running around him in a frenzy. The Hulk could hear their shouts of pain and rage in equal measures. Attacking. Surging. Like gnats they swarmed him, and like gnats he swept them aside with his arm, large hand balled into a crushing fist. He stomped them out. He pulled them apart. He could see nothing but a blinding red rage, filling his vision with the forms of enemies, each one coming in quicker than the last.  
  
Some of them came at him with sharp pointed sticks of metal, biting into his flesh and fuelling his rage. He roared, the sound a deafening thunder as he returned the attack, swatting the sharp weapons aside as though they were nothing. The pain was nothing. It was nothing but a fuel for his anger, the red hot lust for vengeance and punishment to be doled out with the swing of a fist. SMASH.  
  
They ran around his feet, trying to trip him up. Puny little things. He stomped. He kicked. The world careened around him in a meaningless blur of motion as he spun to catch them. Master had said to fight. Master had said that they would come. Master wanted him to _kill._  
  
As red painted the field around him he did not stop, bellowing out his battle cry over and over again. Soon he was being bombarded with arrows, each tipped with liquid fire that would infect his blood and pour agony under his skin. They _hurt_. They _damaged_. He screamed. They would pay. His stomping feat shook the ground beneath him as he marched over to where the archers shot at him, scrambling to get out of his way, to avoid his fists. He would show them. They wouldn't attack the Hulk and live.  
  
Nothing mattered except the smell of blood and the screams that surrounded him. Screams of rage. Screams of pain. Screams of fear and screams of fury. He knew those sounds intimately, and he returned them in full, the emotions echoed from his own chest. Nothing mattered. Except to SMASH.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Anne knew what she was doing.  
  
She had been learning as quickly as she could how to capture magic. How to bend it like code to her own will. Loki had been a patient teacher, but she could tell that time was running out. It was time for his next conquest. The clock was ticking, and her Master was getting run down with the stress and the worry of the endless march of time bringing them closer to whatever ending he foresaw. Nidavellir, she knew, had to be taken, and soon.

He had been unusually quiet since his last trip to Asgard. She didn't know what to make of the way he shut himself away, pouring over tomes of arcana. He pushed her to learn. She diligently studied to the best of her abilities. Mentally exhausting efforts, but she was not resentful. She was proud that he was putting such faith in her abilities.  
  
And now those memories of long nights spent struggling to learn the languages of arcana, the strain of wrestling magical energies away from a magically infused being, came rushing back to her as she put them into practise.  
  
Her horse careened through the battlefield. She was in the thick of things now, the sounds and sights a rush around her. One hand on the reins. The other reached out to grasp at streams of magic that moved through the air like tendrils. Raw power, different than the electrical signals on Earth, but just as clear. Missile attacks designed to cause any number of consequences, some of which she could read now in the makeup of the magical forces. Confusion. Sleep. Pain. Fear.  
  
The horse let out a loud whinny as she pulled it this way and that, intercepting the blows of magic from the mages, ducking out of the way of spears and swords. The field was muddy, slicked with blood and drenched with rain that was only now beginning to fall. Dirt and grime splashed up on her face as the sandy coloured horse dug its hooves into the ground. Leather armour protected her from the onslaught as much as it could, gold pauldrons on her shoulders and plating protecting her midsection. Still, it didn't stop her from being cautious. As she reached out to steal a bolt of confusion spelled into a stream of magic, siphoning the energy from the shocked looking mage several spaces away from her, she whirled around to quickly convert it into a shield, solidifying the raw magic into a spell of her own.  
  
She wondered for a moment if this was what the Avengers felt when they fought. Grasping hold of another bolt of magic, turning the destructive explosion back at its source, the startled mage giving out a cry as his arm was seared by the blast. She could hold the magical energy like it was a physical thing, tingling in the palm of her hand. It was a heady rush.  
  
As her horse ducked to the side, avoiding another blow from a swung sword, she found herself looking over to Loki, riding atop his own stallion. The beast was black, glossy coat shining under the sun and wet with rain water, blood and dirt. He was a sight to behold. He wielded a spear in tandem with his own magic, his skin blue and etched with lines that seemed to match the ones carved into his armour. Ice poured from every blow of the spear as he cut off enemies and loped soldiers to the ground.  
  
Illusions of himself littered the battlefield, though she could now immediately tell his clones apart from himself. They were all tinted with green in a way they hadn't been before the amplification of her powers, the telltale signature of arcane casting. His enemies could not see it, and soldiers would dodge out of the way of a blow from a clone only to catch the blade of his spear in their backs. He moved through the field like a dancer, quick and with a skilled kind of grace.  
  
She moved as though a part of the rush of motion around her, the dance of the brawlers catching her up in their wake. Her hand darted out over and over to catch wayward streams of magic. Sometimes the magic resisted her pull, the mage in question pulling back against her will. She faltered, lurching forward on the horse, almost toppling over before she let go. She did not have time to engage in a wrestling match with a mage. She moved on to other streams.  
  
At some point a spear sliced through her leg. She screamed, though she did not notice. Her body seemed to be functioning apart from her own consciousness now, adrenaline surging through her and deafening her ears to the sounds of chaos and violence around her. Her leg was wet with blood, but it did not matter. She was fully immersed in the discord of the field.  
  
Loki's head turned towards her, and she caught his eyes. His grim features, hardened and set for battle, blood red eyes narrowed in concentration, lightened for a moment. A small smile graced his lips. He nodded briefly to her, and she could not help the swell of pride that ran through her. To be here, at her Master's side, taking on the realms with him at his right hand. There was no greater honour.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> Please also come and [say hi on Tumblr!](http://firstorder-pixie.tumblr.com) I'd love to chat ;)


	14. The Beginning of the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's war with Nidavellir is coming to a swift conclusion, with Anne and Bruce at his side. How will the Queen of Vanaheim react when it is revealed that Loki had his eye set on not one realm, but two?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a lot of fun to write and I hope you enjoy it! A lot of POV hopping in this one. With this we've reached the end of this stretch of action chapters, hopefully there will be some nice, much needed smut next chapter ^_^

_Images flashed through her eyes. Fire. Red hot, and all consuming. The panicked faces of people running, fleeing for their lives with nowhere to go. The earth splitting beneath them even as hellfire rained down from above, swallowing them up like the gaping maw of a creature who's hunger was all consuming. The sound of screams filled her ears, the stench of death hanging heavy in her nostrils._  
  
_Then her vision moved, speeding out from the chaos and carnage in the city, the crumbling buildings and the melting sidewalks. Her line of sight was fast approaching the mountain lines beyond civilization, to the horizon and the wild earth. Rocks were falling, the goats and deer leapt this way and that to avoid catastrophe. The sky was darkening with clouds. Even as fire smote the landscapes she saw a beautiful, ethereal creature climb up into her line of sight, untouched by the havoc around it._  
  
_It was white, stark white, so bright against the rugged mountain that she could swear it was glowing. A beacon of light. A horse, but lithe and more graceful than any equine beast she had ever seen before. It would almost have felt insulting to liken it to a horse. It's tail was long and draconic, a tuft of fur on the end, silver hair brushing the ground next to silver cloven hooves. Upon it's head a single horn that shone so bright she could not look directly at it._  
  
_The creature's eyes bore into hers and for a moment she could swear that she felt a swell of pity from the angelic beast. It spoke without sound, it's voice ringing in her mind like a telepathic surgence._  
  
_“Flee, or fight. The choice is yours.”_

  

 

* * *

  

 

The battlefields had been painted red, blood seeping into the earth beneath them with a permanence that would not wash away for generations to come. It was a dour and macabre sight to look upon, field after field of the slain and the wounded. Elves, vanir, frost giants and dwarves littered the landscape, bones and gristle painting a vivid picture of what had taken place. It had been only five days, and the devastation caused by the invading armies was wide.  
  
The battle had moved now, gaining ground and momentum. The dwarves were a hardy folk, not used to giving up or baking down. But they faced against armies from four different realms, each with their own strengths and strategies. It was chaos. It was a slaughter. There was no glory or honour in this war. It was a means to an end, not a righteous victory.  
  
Evening bathed the encampments in moonlight. The dwarves were busy at makeshift smithies, the sound of metal pounding metal ringing through the silence of the night. Night was the only time it was remotely silent, and the people basked in that reprieve, the sounds of battle and bloodshed for the moment held at bay. The wounded were dressed. Determination shone in their eyes as they fixed their blades and polished their hammers.  
  
In the vanir encampment, much was the same. Loki's tent was pitched near Queen Asta's, her best soldiers and mages scattered around the area. Throughout, there were people milling about, stretching their aching legs, bandaging their wounds and popping dislocated bones back into place. There was a grim attitude about the camp. None made merry.  
  
“Again.” Anne's voice went out to her companion, an elven mage by the name of Darian. He sighed, the exhaustion in his eyes and the lethargic movements of his body conveying without words that all he wanted to do was fall into a deep sleep. Instead he raised his hands, a blue energy circling from the aura that surrounded him, weaving around his hands like snakes of light. Anne watched as they coalesced into form, her body stiffening at ready as the deadly magical javelin was thrown in an arc towards her.  
  
She caught it midair, snatching the magic where it flew, bending it in half as it came to her hands. A few words in Arcana, manipulating the flow of energy and the javelin had become a shining blue shield. From the sidelines of the sparring area she could see Bruce shift where he sat, a grim smile resting on his lips. “You're getting the hang of that, Anne.”  
  
She grimaced, putting a hand to her leg to feel the bandage where she had been injured. It had mostly stopped bleeding now, the arts of the vanir healers keeping the worst of it at bay. And she knew that she had not experienced nearly the worst of what was possible. There were others in the camp who had suffered debilitating injuries. Some had lost limbs. Many had lost their lives. She knew this was necessary, like rebreaking a bone to set an injury in place. Unpleasant, but needed. The chaos to the narrative to bring about the ending.  
  
But she wanted to help Loki finish it as _swiftly_ as possible. The sooner Nidavellir was claimed in the name of King Loki, the less people had to die on the field of battle. The air stunk with the smell of blood and vomit, the nauseous concoction carried on the breeze from the battlefields. This needed to _end._ She turned her eyes back to Darian, and extended her hands to him as she let the magic shield fade from her grip.  
  
_“Again.”_

 

 

* * *

  

 

The Queen of Vanaheim looked out from where she stood, vanir attendant at her side. A few paces away was Loki, with his own Midgardian attendants, the slave girl and the great green berseker warrior. Though he was in human form at the moment, his presence always made those around him nervous, fully knowing that it only took a moment and a nod from his Master for him to become deadly, despite his mild appearance.  
  
She smiled, waiting, letting her thoughts roam. It had been only the night before that the messenger had arrived from the dwarven encampment, white flag in hand. Nidavellir's king had fallen in battle, and with the loss of their leader the Chief General wanted to negotiate surrender. Five long days of brutal warfare, every army suffering serious losses, before this conquest came to a close. She had felt a rush of relief at the messenger's news. Actively siding with Loki in this war had been a calculated risk. If Loki did not win, the effects on her own relations with the dwarven realm would be disastrous. But if Loki won, he would owe her and Vanaheim for a long time for this support. The gamble had played out in her favour.  
  
Now, as the dwarf General approached the plateau, she felt glad to be putting this ugly business behind them. He had his own attendants of course, a woman and a man who stood on either side of him as he nodded gravely, bowing before the monarchs. “King Loki... Queen Asta.”  
  
She watched out of the corner of her eye as Loki nodded, inclining his head as well. “General Brandt. In light of King Eric's death, I am pleased to accept your surrender.” There was a tense moment, a silence falling over the grouping, and the Queen's eyes went from the dwarven General, to Loki, and back again. _Something was not right_. A twist of doubt wrenched in her stomach, frowning some. _Why did her senses tell to be wary?_  
  
Suddenly there arose a loud cry as a horn was sounded. The notes pierced the foreboding silence in long blasts, and the sound of battle cries and the clinking of metal armour filled the field. She turned just in time to see the vanir encampment far away below the hills on which they stood, set upon by the dwarven armies with renewed vigour, her people caught unprepared and unawares. Her teeth clenched as her eyes narrowed in a rage, turning swiftly back to regard the enemy General. Her hand clutched at the sword at her side, knuckle tightening their grip around the hilt.

 “ _What is the meaning of this!_ You were here to _surrender_.” That they would attack during a parlay was beyond dishonourable. She loosed the sword from it's sheath and pointed it at the dwarf, waiting for a reply, a justification of this gross misdemeanour. Her heart sank as her eyes flitted to Loki, who stood calm and serene, unmoved by these events. His lack of concern only further confirmed her suspicions.  
  
“Yes your Majesty... We _have_ surrendered.” The General looked impassively down the edge of the blade, unmoved by her display of threat and incensed anger. Then his eyes moved to the Asgardian, giving a nod in his direction. “To King _Loki_.” The world seemed to stand still for a moment, time lengthening as the Queen processed this information. _How could she had been so blind?_ Of _course_ Loki would have supporters in Nidavellir. Just how deep had his espionage and covert infiltration gone that their armies bowed before him at the loss of their King?

Then she felt her heart sink into her stomach as the vanir soldier at her side drew blade, the silver edge flashing in her field of vision before it was pressed against her neck. The woman looked at her with a fierce and purposeful expression. Cool eyes that betrayed no emotion at the betrayal. Her own widened for just a moment before she dropped the blade in her own hand to her side, regarding the soldier.  
  
“ _Even my own._ ” She nodded her understanding as she looked into the eyes of the vanir who she had thought loyal. Loki must have had agents within her own realm for some time if even her own were turning against her. She turned her attention back to the treacherous Asgardian and his Misgardian servants, all clad in green and gold. Loki's smile was still as insufferably serene as ever.  
  
“This was your plan all along. Wait until the armies of Vanaheim and Nidavellir had taken enough losses as to be sufficiently weakened before killing King Eric, allowing your supporters in both to turn their armies as one against the portion of both armies still loyal. Taking both realms in one fell swoop.” She surprised herself, speaking with a calm that she did not feel. Despite the rush of emotion she let none of it creep into her voice save contempt. “I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, _Liesmith_. I was a _fool_ to trust you.”  
  
Loki's smile widened at that, shrugging his shoulders and putting his hands in the air with a regretful grin. His expression unbearably smug. “I certainly cannot argue with _that._ ” His eyes seemed to dance with a mischievous glint that made her feel sick to her stomach. She had to fight back the urge to spit at his feet as her anger welled up within her. Instead, she tilted her head, matching his playful smile with one of her own.  
  
“ _Tell me_ , Loki...” She began, a note of derision colouring her tone of voice. “Can _anyone_ in all the realms truly trust you, I wonder?” She knew she had been duped. She knew she should have seen it coming. Should have expected it. In part, she was largely to blame for this turn of events herself. She watched as Loki's head turned for a brief moment to the two Midgardians at his side, moving over the warrior, but coming to linger on the slave girl with a rare kind of fondness. Then his attention was back on her, and he answered simply.  
  
“Those who _serve_ me.”  
  
She grinned at that and closed her eyes. It was a foolish sentiment, and she suspected that he knew it. She took a moment to steel herself before she opened her eyes, set with new determination. Her sword was up in an instant, and within moments she had drawn blood from the solider at her side. The girl had made a valiant effort at parrying her blows, and there was a flurry of motion and the clang of steel on steel as the two of them struck out against the other. But the solider soon found herself on her knees before the Queen of Vanaheim, and the smell of blood filled the air as the Queen's blade was driven swiftly through her neck. There was a cold indifference in the Queen's eyes now... she looked up from under blood splattered eyelids to look at Loki, her stance readying to attack.  
  
At once the Midgardian warrior sprang forward to place himself between the Queen and his King, but Loki's hand reached out to halt him, fingers clasping his shoulder and pulling him back with gentle tug. “No, Doctor... I will deal with her Majesty myself.”  
  
There was a quiet moment before she saw King Loki change before her eyes. His skin paled before it shifted, an icy blue pallor sweeping across him even as lines etched themselves deep into his skin. His stature grew, filling out his armour and growing in height. He looked more regal than ever, the perfect image of princely composure. She wanted to _destroy_ it.  
  
In an instant she was on him, rushing forward, blade outwards, still wet with the blood of her betrayer. Watched a a satisfied smirk as her blade sank into flesh for the second time that day, felt the push and resistance of a body beneath her sword, and then... The man's body seemed to flicker. The image disappeared and she was sent careening forward with a cry of rage as she spun around to see King Loki towering over her from behind.  
  
“You will have to do better than that, your Majesty.” She spun around, feeling power flow through her arms to her fingertips, unleashing a torrent of magical energy through the next swing of the sword, bolts of raw power to pierce through her assailant. But at the moment of impact she watched in confusion as the magic flew off its trajectory. Her eyes turned in alarm, only find..  
  
_The slave girl._ The Midgardian had the weave of magic turned in her bare hands, a grim set expression on her face. _Impossible!_ She had snatched her power _out of the air._ That should not be possible. The girl was muttering words in Arcana, her lips moving in tandem with flicks of her fingers. The Queen frowned, her brow narrowing in anger, her hand reaching out to wrench at the power that was _hers_ , not that girls. She pulled back on it, and the girl was breathing heavily, her will wrestling against her own. Hair fell into her face and she was looking up at her from under bright strands of blue.  
  
Then she felt a blow of ice catch her side and she cried out, turning just in time to stop another bolt from Loki's staff catching her in the chest. Loki's aim was good, she had to admit. His mark was the weak points in her armour, the places where the plates met each other. He had been studying it for days. She grit her teeth and lashed out with her sword, letting another rush of magic run through her. Loki's staff met her blade with a crash, her own blade fortified by an arcane field. As ice crept from his staff she grinned, a shield spreading from her sword.  
  
Then she felt a strange pull, and the magic was leaking away from her again. Again she looked to the girl, but she knew she could not afford not to keep her eyes on the opponent in front of her. Again the girl's hands drew the magic away from her. The slave was not powerful enough to siphon her magic if she bent her will to resist, but that required concentration... which was not a luxury she had at the moment. Crying out in pain she felt a blast of magic heat her armour. The girl had not only stolen her spells... she had converted her magic into new ones.  
  
Ice on one side. Fire on the other. She screamed, lashing out with the full force of her blade, but Loki's movements were faster than hers. His armour was built for agility, not blunt force like hers. He danced circles around her, even as the slave girl sent blast after blast of heat from the sidelines. His bouts of ice made her armour brittle, and before she knew what was happening, there were cracks forming in the mental, creating intricate patterns across the silver surface.  
  
When the ice encased staff finally burst through her armour, she was brought to her knees with pain. Blood streamed out from the wound in her side as he forced her down to the ground, impaled on the length of his weapon. She coughed up blood, as her world was consumed with agony and the stench of death. In the distance she could hear the sounds of battle, the last stand in the last legs of this farce of a war. Nidavellir and Vanaheim would both fall, both at once.

“Asgard was never your only goal.” She choked out the words as she glared up at the King who towered over her, golden horned helm reaching up to the skies. “You will not be satisfied until all of the nine realms are in your grasp.” There was a twist of the staff and she screamed again, her body falling lower to the ground before the staff was pulled out of her with a sicking squelching sound. The bloodied blade pressed firmly against her throat, coating her in red.  
  
“I have no intention of killing you, your _Majesty_. You will still be needed in the coming days.” The way he spoke her now meaningless title was filled with a derisive kind of mockery, his voice cold and his expression calm. Elven mages came forward then, enchanted rope in hand as they bent down to grasp her arms. Another shriek of pain loosed itself from her lips as she felt them bind her, the wound in her side throbbing with pain, her blood painting the ground a vicious scarlet.  
  
“You will _pay_ for this treachery, Loki! _Mark my words._ ” She spat at his feet, blood mixing with saliva as she was pulled upwards. As her feet touched the ground she faltered, leaning to the side, the guards catching her between them to hold her upright. A smile twitched at the corner of Loki's mouth.  
  
“Consider them marked. _Take her away_.”

 

  

* * *

  

 

The four of them were huddled around the small television screen, their eyes unblinking as they watched the footage unfolding before their eyes. Steve thought that they had been making progress in their battle against King Loki's regime. Latveria was all but theirs, despite some hurdles. They had been winning more battles than they had been loosing lately. Loki's forces had seemed lessened of late... as though their attention was divided. Steve could only suspect that Loki's activities in other realms was keeping his focus off of Earth.  
  
But there were clearly bigger problems on the horizon.  
  
The young reporter was speaking fast, the mic trembling in her hand. _“There has been unprecedented seismic activity on a global scale, cutting a circle through the oceans and swallowing vast amounts of coastal land.”_ Behind her the footage unfolded, a live feed of the deep indents in the oceans, water disappearing, causing whirlpools and tidal waves of a magnitude none had ever seen before. Steve's eyes turned to Tony, taking in his reactions. The scientist looked grim, his hands folded in front of him as he watched with narrowed brow. Natasha held the remote in hand, silently changing the channel to another news feed, this time an older looking man.  
  
_“-just heard from NASA there are reports of unidentified electronic signals approaching Earth from outer space. We don't know what this is or what it might mean, but our systems have been overloaded with alien chatter. Could this be the return of the Chitauri?”_ Another push of a button and the screen changed again. Two people sat in chairs, a discussion of the current global situation at hand.  
  
_“All I'm saying is, if this is the Chitauri come back, well, this time it might not be so bad? Loki is in power now, there's no need for them to attack us.”_  
  
“But what if it isn't the Chitauri? We haven't seen them since his first take over attempt. Who's to say this isn't something else? And will King Loki stand to protect us from whatever is coming? Has anyone even seen him recently?”  
  
“Why conquer the Earth just to loose it? Of course he'll protect us, if we need protecting.”  
  
“What about the Avengers? Could they be counted on as well?”  
  
“Fat lot of good the Avengers are doing. They're too busy trying to take over small countries and pick apart the King's reign to help in the event of an emergency. I believe Loki will-”  
  
Natasha shut off the television. There was an eerie silence hanging over the four as they processed the idle speculation of the people. A crash sounded as Clint drove a fist into the table. “This is fucking _bullshit!_ We do all this, and for what! They _want_ Loki! They think-”  
  
“Calm down, Clint.” Natasha's voice was calm and gentle as she placed a hand on his shoulder. “There have always been divided opinions about us. And about Loki. This is no different.” The group knew that she was right, but that didn't make the words sting any less. And worse, there was more danger looming on the horizon. Something bigger than Loki. Something Loki had been trying to warn them about... Steve sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. It felt like something big was coming. Like a climax was imminent.  
  
A door opened and the four of them turned to see Wanda step into the room, clad in her usual red leathers. She had a worn and haunted look on her face, bags under her eyes that suggested she hadn't slept in days. Steve frowned, about to speak, when she looked up, her tired eyes meeting his.  
  
“I've had another vision. The end is coming.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> Please also come and [say hi on Tumblr!](http://firstorder-pixie.tumblr.com) I'd love to chat ;)


	15. New Experiences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Loki has achieved his victory over Nidavellir and Vanaheim, he and Anne take an evening to themselves to celebrate. He has some new experiences in store for her…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lord this was a challenge to write, sorry it took a little while! This chapter is dedicated to tumblr user mitch-that-bitch, who requested AGES ago to have a genderswap/Anne-with-a-dick scene. I hope you like it :D

Victory had been assured from the moment the dwarven King was slain. Anne had watched as the remnants of those still loyal to either King Eric or Queen Asta were defeated, surrendered and bowed low. It was a satisfying feeling, to stand next to King Loki as crowds of defeated warriors bowed the knee, hands held above their heads, in subjugation to her Master. Loki's own aura was glowing brighter than ever in that moment, and to Anne it seemed like he shone brighter than the sun as he stood above them all, accepting the submission that was his due.  
  
“Come here, pet.”  
  
She stood now in his war tent, a large and expansive affair that afforded little privacy from the rest of the army. Not that Loki was ever concerned with such things. She moved toward him at once, smiling shyly at the memory of his victory. This was the most powerful man in the Nine Realms. And she was naked in his tent.  
  
She felt his fingers grasp hers, his hand pulling her in close to him, and the warmth from his body surrounded her, her senses filling with the scent of him. As he pulled her to crook his chin along her collar bone his lips brushed her ear, a shiver running down her spine as she felt his breath creep across her skin.  
  
“I have a new idea, pet... We should celebrate this victory with something special.” She felt his arms snake around her, envelop her even as his aura grew and shimmered and his armour disappeared from his body, pulling her in tighter until they were skin to skin. A hand about her waist moved around her, sending jolts of pleasure through her with every movement. His fingertips felt electric with magic as they moved, until his hand was delicately cupping her, resting comfortably between her legs. She smiled a shy smile as she looked up at him, waiting for whatever he had in store.  
  
Then she felt a strange warmth emanating from his hand, and a pull on her body. A gasp left her lips, her muscles tensing as she felt a sensation of _lengthening_ and a throb in her clit. Jolts of pleasure swirled through her as she looked up with wide incomprehending eyes, stiffening in his arms. “Ma..Master?” His aura was swirling round her now, green light springing from his hand and into her body as he began to pull his hand away from her. And her body seemed to follow, _stretching_ under his fingertips.  
  
“Shhh, _hush_ pet. _Relax_ for me now...” It felt electrifying. It felt like a rush of heat and sensation. There was a tug on her flesh as her eyes widened, looking down to watch as he lengthened her, stretched her out, his hand rising from her legs. Her skin was tingling with arousal, flush colouring her cheeks as she looked on dumbfounded to the sight of a cock resting between her legs. _This was new._  
  
“How do you feel?” His voice was purred into her ear, the same sweet silky voice that always made her knees weak and her heart race. She found herself leaning on him for balance, reaching out with tentative hands to clutch at him as her blood rushed through her veins. She could feel the foreign weight between her legs, hard and throbbing with need. It was a more intense arousal than she could remember experiencing.  
  
“I feel.. I feel.. _strange_...” She bit her lip, her words quivering as she spoke. It was a quiet kind of plaintive mewl, uncertain and trepidatious. She could feel her cock rubbing against his leg, and it set her skin on fire. She found herself pressing against him, her hips moving uncertainly and without her own conscious effort. She _wanted_. She was _drowning_ in want. In need. _Was this what being a man felt like?_ This constant crawling need in your skin and aching desire between your legs?  
  
His hands pulled her closer, fingers wrapping themselves around the shaft and making her moan in earnest. “Shh. It's only temporary, pet.” His hand glided over the length of it, up and down in a torturous motion that made her skin feel hot and her breathing shorten. Then he was pulling her towards the bed, his grasp on her firm and compelling, using her cock as a _leash_. She followed, stumbling, her body flushed hot as she moved after him, his hand still clasped around her.  
  
In a flurry of motion he had spun her around, his hands holding her in a delicate embrace as he laid her down on the bed. Gentle, but firm and in control. Each movement made her squirm as she watched him, her body trembling like a leaf in the wind. She was mute, all she could do was breath as she helplessly obeyed his direction.  
  
“There now, lie back.” She felt his hands guiding her, steadying her as her back pressed into the covers of the bed. His fingers glided along her sides, her hips, pulling her legs apart. He leaned over her, coming to rest between them, and she could feel his breath hot on her skin. She felt her body tense and her hips buck as his tongue darted out to lap at the head of her cock, a shiver of pleasure running down her spine.

“How does that feel?” The murmured words were like honey, smooth and thick, sweetened with lust. His eyes shone with a dark glimmer, a feral expression upon his features that made him look wild and hungry. Her form shook beneath him, wave after wave of sensation and overwhelming need washing through her.

“Ahhh... _Master_.. It feels... it feels so...” She couldn't put it into words what this felt like. It was _new_ , it was incomprehensible, it was foreign and _strange_. She gasped, a strangled, whimpering sound as he took her into his mouth, pushing her deeper into him. The suction felt incredible, warm and slick. As he began to move up and down on the shaft she felt her world coming undone. All she could do was lie back, her hands fisting in the covers beneath her, gasping for breath as whimper after strained whimper fell from her lips.  
  
His eyes never left her as his head bobbed up and down on her. Watched her writhing and moaning, helpless and vulnerable. She was shaking, more than usual, overwhelmed and overcome by this new sensation. And he wasn't done with her yet. As she grew closer and closer to orgasm, her cock growing harder and harder and her cries louder and louder, he could taste the precum in his mouth.  
  
“Oh please... _please_ Master please can I cum??” She managed to gasp the words, but the stimulation stopped abruptly as he lifted off of her, her cock sliding from his smirking lips. A pained mewl came from her, the sudden lack of sensation painful and leaving her throbbing and confused. He shook his head as he moved over her, straddling her.  
  
“Not yet my pet... we've only just started. Wait a little longer.” As he moved over her, his body pressed against hers, she could feel his hand grasping at her, touching her length and pulling it towards him. Her eyes widened as she felt the head touching him, touching against a soft opening, and she stiffened in apprehension. _He wasn't going to have her.. fuck him? Was he?_  
  
As if in anticipation of her confusion, her hand was clasped in his in a moment, and drawn towards his own length. As her fingers closed around him, she looked up at him with questioning eyes. “ _There now._.. I will have you please me tonight, pet. Just as you always do.” His entrance felt so warm, and her cock was _aching_ with need for stimulation. She felt like she was going to burst, a clawing and frantic desire inside of her as he guided her into him. As her fingers tightened around him she could feel him pushing himself onto her length, and she gasped underneath him at the sensations, the tight wetness of him. _Was this what he felt when he fucked her?_  
  
Soon his hands found her shoulders, pinning her down beneath him as he began to move his hips. His ass moving up and down on her, and she cried out with every single motion. “Oh.. oh Master!” She felt her own hips moving to meet his, her body moving with a mind of it's own. She felt helpless under his weight, pinned and trapped in a delicious new physicality.  
  
“ _Oh pet,_ you feel _so good_ inside of me. _Good girl._ ” His voice was breathless and airy, his eyes still intent upon her, taking in every twitch of her body and gasp of her panted breath as he rode her. Her skin flushed pink as she moved her hand up and down on his shaft, eyes closed in rapture and ecstasy. She could feel the mounting orgasm twisting inside of her, pleasure shooting through her with every movement of his hips. She wanted to go further, to go _deeper_. “Can.. can I cum please? _Master?_ ” Her trembling voice asked him in awed reverence.  
  
He smiled, shaking his head with a twinkle in his eyes. “Not yet.” A hand left her shoulders to caress her cheek, smiling fondly down on her with a mischievous wink before his fingers hovered over the collar around her neck. There was a pulse of green light from his fingertips and the familiar sight of a chain connecting to the collar, before he was laying back, pulling her along with him.  
  
It was disorienting, this sudden shift as he drew her, still deep inside of him, over top of his form. The leash was tight, pulling her with him to keep her close, her nose only inches from his own and his scent engulfing her. She felt a sharp twinge of pain as his teeth found her earlobe, playfully nipping and pulling at her before taking the sensitive skin into his mouth and gently sucking. She felt like she had turned to mush in his arms, groaning and panting as she felt his tongue explore her skin.  
  
“You're going to fuck me, pet. _Good and hard._ If I feel like you're slacking or dropping the pace, there will be _consequences._ And you will not cum until I have. Do you understand?” She felt a hard tug at the leash, enough to choke her, cut off her breath for a moment and leave her sputtering as she nodded. “Yes Master.” A hand snaked around her waist, pulling her hips towards him, making her rut into him, and she gasped at the sudden feeling.  
  
Slowly, tentatively, she began to move her hips. Her hands moved to steady herself as she felt his skin underneath her, his body moving in tandem with her. She felt so connected to him in this moment, exploring him, filling him, the urge to drive herself deeper into him all encompassing. Soon her hips were moving on their own, a rhythm guided by his hand resting with affection on her ass. She moaned as she felt him engulf her, swallow her, devour her. Breathless and panting, she clutched at him even as he pulled her forward with the leash.  
  
When her rhythm faltered, the collar tightened. She felt his hand on her ass, nails digging into her skin as her throat constricted, air cutting off for brief moments that made her head spin. Her movements picked up, fucking into him harder, as he watched her with an expression of smug satisfaction. She was performing for his pleasure now. Her own satisfaction was irrelevant.  
  
“Good girl... _just like that_. You're getting the hang of it.” His voice spoke to her, surrounded her, made her cry out in desperation and need as she felt his tightness around her. Deeper, deeper. She wanted it, needed it, craved it. The feel of his body beneath her, around her, pulling her in, made her cry out in pleasure and euphoric desire. “Faster pet...” He murmured, and she obeyed, eager to please him, to _fill_ him. She was just an object for his pleasures, his desires, and she desperately wanted to satisfy his lust and his cravings.  
  
She rutted needily, mindlessly, whimpering and gasping as the sensations carried her away, the tightness and the feel of his cock pressed against her stomach. His hand around her waist. The chain pulled tight. “Good girl, _good pet._.. keep fucking me like that and you'll soon be wearing my cum.”  
As she moved she could feel sweat beading on her brow, wetting her hair. She felt more whorish than ever, obeying his command and her own body's incessant _need._  
  
His grip on her tightened, pulling her close with the leash as he came. He came without a sound, the only change in his demeanour was the way he gritted his teeth, his breath coming in short bursts against her face as she felt warm cum shooting over her stomach. As he drew in deep breath after deep breath she continued fucking into him, her own desire now taking hold of her, her desperate need for release more tangible than she had ever felt it before.  
  
“Please..please Master _please can I cum??_ Oh _please.._ ” She babbled the words, unsure if she would be able to stop herself if he disallowed her now. He smiled, a wicked and satisfied smile as he nodded, pulling her in close and closing his hand around her neck to choke her more fully as she continued to rut like a dog in heat. “You _may._ Cum inside of your Master, pet.”

Her world came undone. She felt a rush of exploding release as cum shot out of her, crying out in surprise and alarm at the tangible sensations. “L.. _Loki!_!” She screamed, his name on her lips as she thrust one last time, deep inside of him, as he received her cum and pulled her close.  
  
As the aftershocks subsided she collapsed on him, panting and burying her face in his chest, shaking and twitching in remembrance. Her cock still deep within him even as he held her in his arms, his hands stroking her back with loving caresses. “Shhh... good girl, you did so well... did you enjoy it?” His words were whispered with affection in her ear. She nodded as she drew in a shaky breath.  
  
“Yes..Yes Master... How... how did you... do that, Master?” She could still feel the foreign protrusion between her legs, even as is softened and slipped from his entrance. It felt heavy and strange, an extension of her own sensitive organ. His lips smiled against her skin as he pressed small kisses along her neck, the chain leash at her collar disappearing in a burst of green light.  
  
“Oh I have many such shapeshifting abilities... and we have _centuries_ with which to explore.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> Please also come and [say hi on Tumblr!](http://firstorder-pixie.tumblr.com) I'd love to chat ;)


	16. Who to Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki confronts Amora again, this time with the backing of the other realms. Can he free Thor from her spells, and if he can, will Thor choose to side with him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH SHIIIT things are gearing up for a climax now!! Hope you enjoy this one!!

The hall around him was lit with gold. Every pillar, every length of floor, every high arched ceiling was intimately familiar to him. As he took it all in with an impassive gaze he felt a lurch in his heart. Memories lived here. His past lived here. This place breathed it, in and out, in slow unconcerned breaths, pulsing through him with each exhale of magic and nostalgia. It took every ounce of willpower not to become completely overwhelmed by the rush of it all.  
  
The attack had been long coming. The sounds of battle and the cries of war echoed from the outside as Asgard's warriors rushed to meet the threat. He had lead the charge, watched as a sizable handful of his best warriors broke the barrier, Vanir mages at the ready to make the cross from Nidavelir into Asgard. It had taken a lot of magic to sustain, even here where the realms met so closely. Amora's magic was still trying to expel them.  
  
His face was grim, lips pursed into a thin line as he burst through the doors and into the Throne Room of Asgard. Under Amora's spell Thor had not even rushed into the fray to defend his Realm, which showed a rather large lack of insight on Amora's part. There he sat, regal and kingly, with his _consort_ at his side. But Loki knew which one truly held the power here.  
  
Amora rose from her seat, an expression of rage gracing her youthful features. Her hands were clenched at her sides, sizzling green energies swirling around them in warning. “How did you manage to break through my barrier?! I told you, Laufeyson, _you are not welcome here!_ ”  
  
His lips turned in a serene smile as he shook his head, shrugging his shoulders with a creak of leather and the clatter of metal. “You underestimate my abilities again, Amora. But I am not here to speak to _you_.” His attention turned to the King of Asgard, vacant eyes staring from a docile face. Surely there were many by now who had realized Amora's ruse.

“Brother! The Enchantress has you bewitched!” Their eyes locked. Thor stared into his with no semblance of recognition. But that did not deter him. He narrowed his gaze, felt the magic in his veins begin to swell. He would overcome this spell. “I know you can hear me.” Thor, somewhere deep in there, must be able to hear him. Must be aware of him. He heard Amora laugh, an amused and cruel sounding peal that danced through the golden hall.  
  
“He cannot hear you.” Words falling from snide lips. “You are a fool, and you waste your time.” Though she spoke, Loki payed her no attention, ignoring her words outright. He kept his eye firmly on the ensorcelled Asgardian. He blocked everything else out from his mind, the battle cries and the clank of metal on metal. The Enchantress's expression turned sour as her words fell on deaf ears.  
  
“Listen to my voice, brother. I know there is a deep well within you of anger towards me. _Hear me_.” Power was moving through him now, growing through his arms and flowing to his fingertips. It would take all of his might to break the enchantment, but he knew he could do it. He had to.  
  
“You wont-” Amora's voice cut in again, right before he unleashed a torrent of power. He could feel it's pulse, arcane words falling from his lips as he _pushed_ , spells of undoing and of _breaking_ ringing through the room, vibrating and heavy. He could feel the resistance from Amora's enchantments, strong and unyielding, bending under the weight of his own. Two forces of will colliding before there was a sickening lurch and the feeling of something breaking under his weight.  
  
Thor stood up. There was still no light in his unblinking eyes, staring with vacancy ahead of him as he walked down the steps towards the towering form of the god of Mischief. He moved as if weighted, limbs heavy and hesitant as he went, before he stood before his brother. Loki's hand reached out, coming to rest on his shoulder as he continued to keep a hold on the magic that had run through his brother like a poison. Drawing it out of him with nothing but the strength of his own will. Something seemed to flicker in Thor's eyes.  
  
“ _That's it,_ brother.” His voice almost cracked under the strain as he continued the mental battle. “Find your rage. _I did this to you._ Will you not seek _justice?_ ” His lips curled in disdain around the word _justice,_ centuries of anger and bitterness channelled into one word, one sentiment. There was a pause, before Thor stumbled, just briefly, his eyes lighting and returning to consciousness. A gasp of air filled his lungs as though he had not drawn breath in years.  
  
There was a bloodcurdling cry of angered despair as Amora screamed.  
  
“NO! YOU'RE MINE! YOU BELONG TO ME!” Her shrill voice echoed through the chamber as she leapt towards them, hands glowing with raw power. Thor's eye's flashed with pure rage ash he turned to her, a guttural cry of feral passion clawing it's way out his throat as he swung a hand in her direction. The blow caught the Enchantress by the throat as the force of his swing sent her reeling backwards and into a wall. A loud crack sounded at her impact, before she slumped to the floor, unconscious.  
  
Within seconds Thor's attention was back on Loki, the force of his rage evident in his eyes and in his fists. Thor's wrath was a sight to behold as the warrior grasped for the sword at his side, narrowing his eyes at his treacherous sibling. “BROTHER!” His hands clenched so tight that white danced across the knuckles. “You will pay for this... _for all you have done!_ ”  
  
There was a clash of metal against metal as Loki's staff flew up to meet the blow from the sword. The two were locked for long moments as each looked into the eyes of the other as if for the first time, fury and resentment written across their features. With a short bark of laughter Loki spun, wrenching the staff in his hands as ice began to creep from his fingers across the handle. Thor stumbled backwards, his eyes never leaving his brother's.  
  
“I'm sure I will.” Loki's voice had taken on a sardonic tone, his expression mocking and his stance readied. He shrugged his shoulders, playfully passing the staff from hand to hand before Thor leapt at him again. Loki's feet had moved in an instant to side step him, turning to catch his shoulder with the sharp end of his staff. “But I believe you will find that there are bigger things to worry about.”  
  
He calculated his attacks meticulously. He _needed_ Thor. Needed to win him over to his own side. It was a gamble to be certain... Thor would almost certainly kill him now if he could not convince him of the coming danger. As if to punctuate his thoughts the Asgardian bellowed again, rage leaping from his throat even as he swung the sword again.  
  
“Enough of your _lies!_ I will not be fooled by you again!” Another clash resounded through the room as the two Asgardian's weapons came down on each other. Loki's skin was beginning to change, a chill sweeping through the air as he grew in stature, lines etching into his skin. Thor's own pallor paled at the sight, taking in the monstrous form as his brother changed before his eyes.  
  
“You have _never_ listened to me.” Loki's voice roared out as the room filled with copies of himself, surrounding Thor's frame and boxing him in. The deitie's eyes cast about wildly in an effort to ascertain which was the true god of Mischief. “Loki _Liesmith_ , god of _Lies_ , _Silvertongue!_ ” Loki's voice grew louder, bolstered by rage and bitterness that went back through the centuries. “All of these they called me, and you believed them! You have never accepted a _word_ from my lips, poisoned by the perceptions of others until I had _no choice_ but to become every vile thing they ever said about me.”  
  
There was a cry of anger and pain as Loki's staff connected with the warrior's side, plunging at him from behind. The clones dissipated as Thor lashed out, sweeping his sword through them like mist. Blood poured from his side as he rounded on his brother, wrenching the staff free. He pointed his blade at Loki, his face contorted in an expression of pure anger.  
  
“There you go again, brother! Blaming others for _your_ actions! You have never changed.” He lunged forward. Loki disappeared from his reach with a mutter of incantations and words of power, reappearing just out of his reach. The mask of playful mischief had crumbled as he narrowed his eyes in reply to Thor's accusations. Painful emotions choked at his throat, threatening to undo him, the last few years of hardened steel breaking as he dodged yet another blow designed to separate his head from his shoulders.  
  
“ _I loved you!_ You were my _brother!_ If there was _anyone_ who I should count on not to harbour such ill thoughts about me _it should have been you!_ ” The returned accusations he hurled at Thor, his words as much a weapon as the staff in his hand and the ice at his fingers. Each footstep covered the floor with a cold blue, his emotions manifesting themselves through the power of his blood. Thor was unmoved, his own voice just as choked with raw emotion and bitter hurt that had had years to fester like an infection.  
  
“You threw away my love! You _turned_ on me! _On all of us!_ ”

Suddenly Thor reeled backwards, stumbling away from his opponent as images interrupted his frustrations and righteous anger. Images flooding his mind, a consciousness reaching out to connect to his. He put a hand on his brow, a futile effort to relieve the ache caused by the mental transference.

There was an image of a girl, dressed in red clothes that marked her as Midgardian. Young, most likely, from the shape of her face and the smoothness of her skin. Her hair was dark. Thor had never seen her before, but her expression seemed urgent and frantic. There were screams and the sounds of destruction echoing from around her as she peered at him through what looked like a crystal of some kind.

When she spoke, it was with a heavily accented speech, a Midgardian dialect he was not familiar with. “Thor! Thor you don't know me, but your Midgardian friends need your help. The Avengers need to be assembled. We don't have much time.” Images continued to come, images of some giant monstrous creature who wielded a gauntlet of power, imbued by gems. The vision changed, and this towering giant was standing in the oceans of Midgard, battling with a giant serpent that wound about him and wrestled his limbs. He recognized that serpent. Then the vision disappeared as quickly as it had come, and Thor was left standing, gaping wide eyed at the panting form of his brother.

Slowly he lowered his weapon. “You weren't lying.” His words made Loki wince, filled with a surprise and awe that made his heart lurch. Was their relationship really so damaged that the idea of Loki telling the truth was so strange to him? Loki pushed back the wave of emotions as he too lowered his staff, though his skin did not change back to the pale milky tones he usually wore.  
  
“No, brother.”

Loki remembered. He remembered falling. Plunging through he darkness, through the abyss. Down, down _down_ , farther and farther until time lost any semblance of meaning and his mind had stilled to a slow crawl. Was this what eternity felt like? An endless existence that was not life. Not anything.  
  
When the pain had begun, he almost welcomed it as a reprieve from the endless nothingness that had begun to consume him, to gnaw at his mind and erode his sense of self. The scream that tore through him as he was plucked from that endless depth felt _good,_ sensation again, _at last_. It wracked his body and it felt merciful. _To feel again._  
  
There were voices. He was confused, parched, disoriented when he was brought before the Master of that Other Realm. That place beyond Yggdrasil, out in the Void. The malevolent consciousness that brooded on destruction and devastation. _God of Chaos,_ it said, calling to him with a sadistic kind of affection. _You will make a fine servant._  
  
Each syllable uttered from that One's maw was pain. Each sound hit him with a dissonance unknown to him, saturating his body with those otherworldly sounds that did not belong to any realm he had ever known. This was beyond the Nine. This was beyond existence. This was _Other._  
  
He heard the words as he felt them, felt the being's mind bent on him. Each breath set fire to his lungs. _Revenge,_ it offered him. _I can see into your very being, and I can see the desire. I will give it to you._ And yes, he wanted Revenge. Against Thor, against Odin.  
  
_Yes, please,_ he had said. _Give me the power I need to take what is most dear from my Brother's hands._  
  
But oh, he was a Liesmith after all, just as everyone had always said. Every skill he had ever had at flattery, at deception, at manipulation he had put to use in this audience chamber beyond the Void. With this creature of Death and Ending. _Yes, I am the God of Lies,_ he lied. _I will end the Realms in your name, and take up a throne under you for having done your bidding._  
  
But he betrayed the Master of that Other Realm. He wanted Revenge, yes. But he was not a god of Chaos and Destruction as the Other had hoped. He was a god of Rebirth. He would set the realms to rise like a Phoenix from the ashes of the old. The evil that was coming for everything he had ever known he betrayed. He needed to _unite_ the Realms, to bolster and strengthen them to _lead_ them. He would do this. _He had to_.  
  
And now the Other's name was breathed into his mind, a name he had avoided ever since that fateful occurrence. _Thanos._ That being was close. He was near. The End was beginning. “Ragnarok is upon us. Let me take you to Mijolnir.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> Please also come and [say hi on Tumblr!](http://firstorder-pixie.tumblr.com) I'd love to chat ;)


	17. The Faces of Discord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the pieces move into place for Loki to finish the war, with his brother and the Avengers at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betcha thought I wasn't going to finish this! Well I am! Only a few more chapters to go now!
> 
> I did take a nice long break, because I wanted to finish up writing my original novel, Bound in Blood! I would love it if you would check that out too, [you can find it here!](http://lizzykingbooks.tumblr.com/post/156406238490/boundinblood) I'm very excited to have completed that, and now to get back to completing this ;)

Loki stepped out onto the dais, Thor standing at his side. The mood between them was tense, but restrained. He knew that his brother still harboured feelings of animosity towards him, and he certainly could not deny that similar thoughts were running through his own mind. He had, begrudgingly, come to the realization that he would need to work _with_ Thor on this, but that didn't make him enjoy the prospect any more. Neither did that grim reality make _Thor_ enjoy his current situation.  
  
But now was not time to dwell on such thoughts. Now was the time for putting on a show. And if there was one thing that Loki was good at, it was _showmanship_.  
  
Showmanship, of course, was only another way to _lie_. Pretend that your own feelings do not exist. Put on a smile. Or a frown. Anger. Whatever the gathered people wanted to see. Whatever would make them listen to you. Play it. Play it _well._  
  
Loki would play it well.

“ _People of Asgard!”_ The crowd below was a teeming throng of people. Warriors with their blood still running hot from battle, weapons drawn and voices hoarse. Politicians with skepticism on their brow. Loki and Thor stood above them all, the later sullen and grim while his brother addressed the turbulent masses, staff brandished in a show of power and strength.  
  
“I have come to unite the Realms!” The cry was met with a slight lull in the unconvinced crowd, who's eyes darted from Loki to Thor and back again. They weren't on his side, not yet, but they were willing to listen, at least for a few moments more. “I have freed my Brother from the wicked spells of the Enchantress, and I have united all the Realms under but one banner! Now, with all Nine under my control and under my leadership, we will face the oncoming threat against all life as we know it.”  
  
He had their attention. Already there were some murmuring among themselves, whispering like wide eyed children. The people of Asgard were _easy_ to whip into a frenzy. Words like _unity_ and _threat_ worked like magic on their dull ears. And in the time Amora had had control of the Realm she had cultivated many dissenters who had surmised that something was not quite right with Thor.  
  
And now here came Loki, the trickster that they now remembered they had former allegiances to as a Prince of the Realm. How fickle the people where, that those who had hated him hours before were now turning their _eyes up towards him_ with the promise of a new threat. There where times he was disgusted by how easily swayed a crowd could be. But here, now, it was a useful tool. Shouts rang out, either in agreement or dissent, it was hard to tell. He needed to tip the scales, and be sure it was only the former.

“Warriors of Asgard!” His voice was raised above the feverish pitch of the throng, stilling their cries as his staff was thrust upwards. “I need your aid! There is a creature from the abyss of existence, from outside of the Nine Realms coming for our ruin. Will you let the Mortals of Midgard resist this force alone?! Will you fight with me!”  
  
The crowd errupted again, this time in cheers of assent and not the angry thrash of petulant rage. This time there was courage, enthusiasm and bloodlust in their eyes. His lips turned into a mischievious smirk as he turned to the large figure standing a few paces away from him.  
  
“Are you ready, brother?”  
  
Thor's hand gripped tighter around the hilt of his sword, his eyes narrowed in sullen defeat as he regarded Loki. “This does not change anything, Loki. When we have defeated this enemy, you will be brought to justice for all the pain you have wrought.”  
  
A sad twinkle lit in Loki's eye as he smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “We shall see. But now, there are more important things at our door.” Thor nodded, the sword glinting in the light as he pulled it free from the holster at his side. “To the Bifrost.”  
  
The two men raised their arms high, and were welcomed with the applause of the crowd. A cry was taken up, and repeated, it's words reverberated through the room, shaking the walls.  
  
“FOR ASGARD! FOR THE NINE! FOR ASGARD! FOR THE NINE!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“You have lost Asgard.”  
  
The words swelled through her mind, the voice cutting into her like daggers through flesh. Pain lanced through her even as raised her hands to grip at her head, a futile gesture that did nothing to ease the pulse of that voice.  
  
She stood in darkness, surrounded by walls she could not see and floors that dissapeared into the blackness. Fear began to race through her, a fear she had not felt in a long time. So certain she had been of her path to victory over her foes. Her body began to tremble, eyes casting about the room to find the one who owned that hideous voice.  
  
“I did all I could! It was taken from me, my throne, my power, my-” Her desperate voice was cut off as another rush of pain sliced through her, invisible wounds that did not bleed spreading through her skin.  
  
She cried out as that voice intoned from the darkness, “ _You have lost Asgard._ I have given you power, _supreme_ power, with which to combat the Trickster, I have amplified and protected you, and _still_ you could not deal with him as per our agreement. You _let_ him into Asgard and you let him _take_ what was yours. And by that, what was _mine._ I am not pleased with you, Enchantress.”  
  
Amora felt her knees weaken. Each syllable that was uttered from that chaotic being pulsed through her as liquid agony, her head throbbing with a sharp kind of ache that was all encompassing. Such was the experience of listening to the poisoned words of Thanos. She gasped for breath as she sank to the floor, skin crawling with fire for every word that struck at her from his lips.  
  
“Give me more! With more power I will overcome him! I will surpass him and rip from him everything he holds dear!” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded empty and uncertain, shaking with pain and with terror. Her body trembled, her eyes widening as she saw his form solidifying out of the darkness. A large, menacing being, a purple mist about him to match his skin and a golden helm upon his head. In the darkness she could just make out the gleam of his eyes, a piercingly bright blue that chilled her blood and her bones.  
  
“You are out of chances.” As his figure loomed over her she screamed, agony wrenching her body in unnatural patterns. She could feel her limbs moving inwards, her body collapsing in on itself, a sickening tension and strain lacing her blood and keeping her immobile. “And to think I was going to give you a Realm. Your desperation for power is only matched by your ineptitude in wielding it.”  
  
The void was filled with the sound of screams, the only thing she could hear and the only thing she could feel as her body was twisted and contorted in his invisible grip. When the darkness finally consumed her, she could feel nothing but relief to at last be at peace, safe from the barbed sting of his voice.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The reporter had short blond hair and a smile that while usually peppy and bright, was now strained with worry. She put on a brave face, but the subject matter of the news broadcasts can only become more and more grim over the last few days. It was all she could do to keep up the illusion that fear did not pulse through her chest in waves. All she could do to keep from shaking on camera.  
  
“I'm here, live, on the scene in what was once known as New York city. Over the last few days, there has been an increasing amount of alien signals that none have been able to decipher and many speculate to be the return of the dreaded Chitauri who wrecked havoc here not too long ago. That theory seems to have some amount of validity, as the signals have been traced to pinpoint to this location, once Stark Tower, and the central hub of the alien activity back during King Loki's first invasion attempt.”  
  
The scene was grey, the sky clouded over and dreary. There was no rain, but the air seemed to be filled with a crackle of electricity. There were people milling around in confusion, when the ground suddenly shook, throwing the reporter off balance. She tripped, stumbling backwards before she regained her footing.  
  
“As you can see, viewers, there is considerable seismic activity here, but scientists can not pinpoint the source. Everyone is in a panic to know: Is this a new invasion? Where is King Loki? What is happening to our planet?” Her hair was a mess as a wind began to pick up. She turned, as suddenly piercing screams filled the air. The camera moved to follow her quickly, moving to the left as she herself felt her eyes go wide and her jaw slack.  
  
She did not scream. She didn't have the presence of mind to do so. Looming on the horizon of the city was what appeared to be a giant wolf, bigger than the buildings. It was so black it could have been a silhouette. And each step it took sent quivers through the earth.  
  
How had nobody seen this thing? It was massive. Had it not been there a moment ago?  
  
“Are you getting this??” She hissed at whomever was holding the camera, and he responded with a kind of tremor in his voice, awed and filled with terror.  
  
“Uh. Yeah. Getting it.”  
  
It moved. One step sent people running, cars were blasting their alarms, the earth crunched under his foot. She gazed at it, and knew that it was going to come in their direction, the direction of Stark Tower, and it would get here quickly.  
  
“I think it's time to leave.” She managed to speak, too dazed to make more than a squeak of sound. The camera man nodded.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
The view shifted as the camera fell to the ground, the lens cracking. All that could be seen was the running of feet before the live feed stopped.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> Please also come and [say hi on Tumblr!](http://firstorder-pixie.tumblr.com) I'd love to chat ;)


	18. Ragnarok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final battle for the fate of the Nine Realms rests of the shoulders of two Asgardian Princes....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter left to go now!
> 
> If you've enjoyed my writing here, please consider supporting my original work as well! I'v recently released an erotic vampire novel called Bound in Blood, [and you can find it here!](http://lizzykingbooks.tumblr.com/post/156406238490/boundinblood)

Steve looked around him at the chaos and the confusion. This may have once been a city, a large sprawling metropolis, thriving with people and life. But now it was a war zone. Buildings had been reduced to rubble. Peace had been filled with conflict.  
  
There were alien creatures at every turn, doing nothing but spread carnage and destruction. Chitauri, but more than that. Otherworldly beasts that looked more like holes than something physical, absences of light that your eyes just sank into. They moved with ethereal and unnerving swiftness, black as tar and just as viscous. Some of them had legs. Others tentacles. All of them were here to kill and maim.  
  
Civilians with the misfortune of still being within the city limits were being evacuated, shepherded by Wanda and other freedom fighters now turned crisis aide. Still the creatures poured out of the large jagged rift that hung in the sky, and they moved faster than people could run to safety. Not that there was anywhere completely safe.  
  
Steve panted as he raised his shield. He gritted his teeth as he wiped his forearm over a deep cut in his brow, the dirty cloth of his uniform dragging dirt through the open wound, in an attempt to keep the blood from getting in his eyes. Then he shouted, a loud and guttural cry of rage as he threw himself back into the thick of things, getting between an alien beast and a running woman. The beast collided with his shield, pushing him backwards. He braced himself, bending his legs to take the force of the blow. 

That wasn't even the worst of the problem. Even as he and Iron Man guarded the backs of the fleeing civilians, pushing back against the alien armies, there was a worse danger looming. He had stepped through the rift first, a giant of a man with violet skin and armour of gold. He was large, like a colossus, his from filling the horizon line and blocking the light from the sun. He commanded the armies, and he wielded power from his hands.  
  
Golden gauntlets were worn on those hands, and with them he rent reality right before their very eyes. Steve watched in growing horror as tears seemed to spread in the very fabrics of space, springing from his fingertips Anyone near was sucked into those holes, their bodies bending and collapsing on themselves as they were pulled through and into oblivion. Energy sprang from his other hand, searing white light that burned and destroyed everything in it's path.  
  
He ran, crashing through enemy after enemy, but it wasn't enough. Just like the first time an alien invasion had ripped through New York, it would never be enough until they stopped the source of it all. He cringed, biting down on his own lip as he felt a bolt of something bury itself in his shoulder.  
  
To his left Natasha leapt from amid the centre of a group of the things, her boot heel digging into the face of one of the Chitauri before she used it as leverage to get herself away. She looked much the worse for wear, blood smeared across her face. Steve couldn't tell if it was her own or not.  
  
“This. Isn't. _Working_.” She hissed through a clenched jaw as she ducked behind his shield. He grimaced, pushing off the skull of another horrific being, a wave of darkness trying to consume the shield and his arm with it before he yanked himself free again, whirling the creature around and throwing it into one of it's own.  
  
“I know. Nothing we do here will work until we take out the big guy. He's the key to all of this.” His gaze raised upwards to the large being, who's feet shook the very foundations of the earth beneath them. There was loud, sinister laughter on it's tongue and devastation sprang from it's hands. That thing was the only worthwhile target.  
  
_“Shit! Are you guys seeing this??”_  
  
Tony Stark's voice broke over their headsets, and both of them turned in tandem to see what looked like a _giant snake._ Steve's mouth fell open, slack, as he looked at what he would have dismissed as impossible only seconds ago. “I.. I'm not sure _what_ I'm seeing.”  
  
Natasha was similarly frozen on the spot as they watched buildings ripped to shreds under the passage of the great worm. It swung in their direction, in the direction of the giant, and before they knew what was happening the two of them were locked against each other. It was like a movie had come to life.  
  
“Steve.” Natasha's voice broke him from his stupor as she grasped him by the arm, pointing to the distance. Coming from behind the giant, was another figure, a giant in his how right. Green. Raging.  
  
_The Hulk._  
  
“I don't believe this.” The two creatures, the Hulk and the serpent, were attacking the giant, in tandem. _Working together._ Maybe things weren't so hopeless after all. As if to punctuate that thought, there was a flash of light, a rainbow of brightness that blinded everyone in the area for a moment before the heavens appeared to open up, temporarily blocking the rift from view.  
  
_The Bifrost?_ It couldn't be... _Thor!_  
  
There was Thor, and with him, Loki. The two Asgardians stepped off the plane, and there too was Anne Caton, looking grim and determined. She was dressed in battle armour. _What on Earth was going on?_  
  
Thor stepped forward through the ruined earth. The Bifrost had created a pulse of energy that spun out around them, all enemies held at bay for the moment. When Thor reached out to take his hand, Steve grasped it. His friend was back.  
  
“Captain. I have been gone for far too long.” They shared a moment, their eyes speaking volumes. Though they did not look towards Loki and Anne, they both knew that they were thinking about them. About the traitors that had conspired against them, stabbed them in the backs and taken the planet captive. And now, at the end, at this final ending, fought beside them. Maybe Loki and Anne weren't as bad as had been believed. Steve would never be certain. But right now, things called for cooperation.  
  
“We're glad to have you back.” He meant it. Thor had been sorely missed. Rumours had abounded that the god had been killed, dead, in some other Realm under Loki's command. But here he was. And they were in dire need of him.  
  
With a roar Thor thrust out his hand, upwards, and there was a flash as lightning crackled and the clouds turned grey. Thunder sounded as zipping through the air came Mjolnir, wind whipping around it as it flew directly into the hand of the Asgardian Prince. His fingers closed around the handle, gripping it tight like he would never again let go of it.  
  
Armies were coming to their aide now, the surviving civilians as out of the way as they could be. They were still fleeing the city limits, but now coming in their direction was an army of jotuns and elves, humans and vanir. And following after the Princes, the rainbow bridge began depositing Asgardian warriors, all come to the aide of Midgard.  
  
Steve turned towards the alien hordes. Now they had the manpower they needed. _Now they could end it._

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

The reporter ran. She had gotten separated from the camera man blocks ago, and she could only hope that he had made it to safety. That he was still alive. She found herself panting and out of breath, her lungs burning in her chest as she fell to her knees some distance away from the carnage. The giant wolf was demolishing Star Tower, rubble falling from it's open maw and crashing from it's paws as it rummaged around in the wreckage.  
  
She took a deep breath, steadying herself, before she got out her phone. Swiped to the camera. With a shaking hand she turned on the wifi and turned the camera onto herself. The view was wobbling, and she barely managed to get herself into the frame as she broadcasted.  
  
“I'm live at Stark Tower, where I kid you not, what appears to be a _giant wolf_ is tearing the buildings to rubble. This is _live footage ladies and gentleman_.” She turned the camera off of herself and began filming the actions of the large creature.  
  
It had found what looked like a large amount of... ice? A room that had been frozen over, from the top of the ceiling to the ground, and the wolf was snapping the ice to pieces in it's teeth. Suddenly something from inside of that mound of ice shook, and the sounds of creaking and groaning reverberated through the landscape. Something broke free, and the wolf leapt off of the ruined building, standing in what looked like triumph.  
  
The object went flying through the air, and the camera shifted, tilted as she had to duck to avoid it, whizzing past her close enough that she could smell the crackling of electricity as it past.  
  
_It looked like a hammer._  
  
She turned the phone back towards herself. “It looks like the creature has freed Mjolnir from the wreckage of Stark Tower. It is now.... it appears to be turning now to rush into the fray with the alien invaders. This is really an incredible sight. I'll keep filming for as long as I can. Stay safe, everyone.”

 

 

 

 

* * *

  

 

 

 

Jormungand was wrapped around Thanos, twisting and biting at him with his fangs, bloody and soaked through with red. He had managed to drag him back, pulling him and corralling him with the help of the Hulk, back towards the ocean. Water sloshed around them as they drove the fight out off of the coastline.  
  
He held the giant immobilized while the Hulk, in full rage, went at him with his fists. Even still, he was larger than the Hulk, and moved his strong arms to block himself from the attacks of the green monster. Jormungand hissed, a shrill sound that made all cringe and grip at their heads. He lashed out.  
  
Thanos was strong. He gripped the serpent by the neck, wrenching back with his arms and flexing his fingers. A blast of energy was sent through the creature, who screamed and thrashed against him. His tail wrapped around his legs, and the Hulk leapt in, flying towards him to drive a fist through a knee cap.  
  
The giant went down, one knee buckling, before he bellowed in rage and pulled farther, his other hand locking on the snake's body. There was a horrific howl of rage and pain as he wrenched his hands apart. Red rained down from the serpent's severed form ripped in half by the giant. Thanos howled, a piercing cry of victory as he tossed the two halves of his vanquished foe aside.  
  
Loki stopped for a moment, and the world seemed to hang in time. His body shook, and the breath was sucked from his lungs as Jormungand died, cast aside like refuse by the violet beast. He cried out in rage and anguish, but it seemed like no sound came from him. All was silent.  
  
Then it all rushed back in, all the sounds, all the wind, all the smells. Rot and blood and viscera, the brine of the sea, the sweat on his brow. He put out his staff and called out to the green Hulk, a pulse of energy going out from him. He spoke, and his voice carried on their connection to speak to the half feral creature in his command.  
  
_“Take his body to safety.”_  


The Hulk obeyed. The once out of control creature, who wouldn't have been able to understand let alone listen to a command such as that one, ceased his attack, and grabbed up the halves of the serpant in his arms. Then he turned and bounded from the scene of the battle.  
  
Thanos moved to halt his escape, but Loki moved between them, covering the fleeing form of his servant. He put out a hand, felt power course through him as an energy shield of green flashed before him, repelling the giant's fist. Thanos roared, and his gauntlet grew bright, tearing a gash of black through the air. Loki felt himself being pulled by that howling vortex.  
  
_Ice_. He let ice spring from the tip of his staff, flying towards that rift and sealing it frozen. There was a crackle in the air, and Thor was suddenly by his side. He looked grim, his brow furrowed and his breathing heavy.  
  
“How do you propose we take this beast down?” Thor's words ripped through Loki, bringing him back to the present. Take him down. Yes. He would destroy this creature from the abyss of space, destroy him like he had tried to destroy Loki. He set his gaze on the face of his enemy, and felt a dour smile spread across his lips.

“We'll do it together. Overwhelm him. He's taken a lot of hurt already. Let's finish him off.” He gripped his staff as he felt himself change. Grow in stature. His skin grew cold and his hands covered over in ice. The world took on a tint of red. Thor smiled, nodded at him, and brandished his hammer.  
  
“Just like old times, _eh brother?_ ” With those words, the two were in the air. They flew circles around the beast, and Loki watched as dark clouds grew overhead. The air had a biting chill to it and the wind was roaring around them. With one hand Loki kept up a shield of magic, and with the other he struck out with his staff, ice flying out to the enemy and piercing his side. Thanos roared.  
  
Mjolnir struck, lightning connecting with him before he could retaliate. He screamed again even as Thor's voice bellowed out in reply. Then he threw the hammer. “Loki! Hit him from the other side!”  
  
Loki's eyes widened for a fraction of a moment before the hammer was flying towards him, and without pausing to think, he reached out and caught it.  
  
_He caught it._  
  
He didn't have a moment to stop and marvel over the implications. He struck out with the hammer, catching Thanos on the jaw before he swung it around and threw it back to his brother, once again raising the magic shield in his free hand.  
  
_If he be Worthy...._  
  
Thor caught it again, and Loki hurriedly sent out bolt after bolt of ice to hamper the giant's movements. Frozen blue crept across his legs, and Thanos roared in frustration as he swung his arms, trying to move his feet. Then lightning struck again, with a heavy sound of thunder in the sky and a cry of pain. The hammer then was sent flying once again. Once again, Loki caught it.  
  
He gripped the hilt. Let his fingers familiarize themselves with it again. Then he let ice pour out from his hand, covering the hammer in blue frost as he swung it one last time, crashing it down upon the skull of this most supreme power.  
  
Thanos went down.  
  
He screeched, an inhumane wail of sound and fury as he fell, and Loki gave one last parting gift as his form sank, his staff slashing across his neck to bleed him out. Thanos shrank as he died, his size diminishing with each second as he fell backwards, his legs buckling out from under him. His eyes rolled back into his head. The earth shook. The waves swallowed him up as the life went out from his body.  
  
The monster was dead. His body lost to the ocean.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Anne was stationed on a ship, just a little removed from the battle, and it felt like old times. Only this time, she was diverting magical energies instead of technical. She worked hard, watching like a hawk the magical signatures of their enemies, and she reached out to grasp at the threads of life that littered the battlefield.  
  
Their magical signatures were dark, and eerie. She reached out and pulled at a bolt of chaos that would rend it's way through reality, bending it and turning it before it might hit one of the Avengers. Then she twisted it, creating from it a barrier instead with which to repel other attacks that showered down on the superheros.  
  
She wanted to be with Loki. But Loki was with Thor. She smiled as she turned to look at her Master and his brother, as they took on the leader of the otherworldly armies. She trusted him. He would prevail.  
  
A creature from beyond the void was leaping for Steve, down on the ground. She halted his movements by crippling him, sending a twist of magic around his legs, siphoning power from one of his companions. That allowed the Captain to bash him across the skull with his shield before moving on. Anne grinned in satisfaction. This was working. They were beating them back.  
  
Loki's armies were there as well. Legions of humans, jotuns, vanir, asgardian, elves, races she had never seen before. They had all come together to repel this evil from their Realms. Loki's plan had succeeded.

Then the howl came. The sound of pure torment and rage, and all turned to look as Thanos was vanquished. He fell, shrinking and diminishing as he did, and his armies quaked with fear.  
  
Then something truly terrifying happened.  
  
She watched in growing horror as the sky darkened, and Hela appeared. From the darkest corners of the landscape crept hundreds of grotesque, undead looking things. They pulled themselves from the darkest recesses of one's mind and crawled out into the light, wrapping their rotting hands around the invading aliens. The creatures from beyond the void shrieked in terror as the undead began to drag them back, down, down _down...  
_  
Slipping into that netherworld that existed past life but beyond death. _Hela's domain._ The woman laughed, a sinister and foreboding sound, before softly whispering. Her voice crawled across the senses of all, across the planet, across the living Realms.  
  
“You denizens of the Other-realm. You will be safe in my keeping. For now, _and always.._..”  
  
Then they were gone, dissipated as her minions dragged them all away, and slipped back into the darkness and the cracks in reality between waking and sleeping. Down to Helheim.  
  
Anne looked around at the suddenly still and quiet landscape. All the still remained did the same. Amidst the carnage and the wreckage of what was once a civilization, the armies began to take up a cry.  
  
_“Victory! Victory! Victory!”_  
  
The day had been one. At a heavy cost, but it had been _won._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> Please also come and [say hi on Tumblr!](http://firstorder-pixie.tumblr.com) I'd love to chat ;)


End file.
